


Semi- Charmed Life

by levi_cas_tho



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cas and Dean are Idiots, Cas loves bees, Castiel in the Bunker, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fallen Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Homeless Castiel, Jealous Dean, M/M, Misunderstandings, Prostitute Castiel, Prostitution, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Temporarily Unrequited Love, and Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-11-16 06:36:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 51,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11248341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levi_cas_tho/pseuds/levi_cas_tho
Summary: When Castiel awakes in the middle of a field without his grace, he knows he has made a mistake. Metatron has tricked him, and all the angels have been cast down to Earth. Now his only goal is to do whatever it takes to return to Dean.*****Dean is holed up in the bunker with Sammy, just glad that his brother made it out alive. He doesn't know where Cas has fucked off to, and he honestly doesn't care (okay that's a  lie). He's got bigger things to worry about anyways.*****I don't even know man I just wanted a low-key angsty Dean/Cas fic so here it is. Point of view switches between Dean and Cas. Title is from a song by Third Eye Blind.





	1. Chapter 1

When Castiel woke up, he could feel. He felt the wet grass scratching his check and dampening his suit. He felt the cool evening air chilling his skin. He could feel every single crease and fold in the fabric of his suit, to an uncomfortable and hypersensitive degree.

And, once he stood up from the earth and looked up towards the heavens, he could feel the suffocating cloak of anxiety and guilt and fear and despair as he watched thousands of his brothers and sisters plummeting to their demise.

 *****

As Dean finally laid in bed that night, it was as though he could feel nothing at all. Numb. He was drained from the day’s events. Events he would much rather forget, if he were honest. And, oops, there we go, now he just reminded himself of it all over again- feelings back in an instant.

Strange, how feelings are like that. They are instant at times, gradual at others. Sometimes a flood, sometimes a constant cycle of drips and drops, building up so unnoticeably until suddenly you’re underwater, drowning.

 *****

Thirst. That was the feeling of the moment for Cas. As an angel, he knew all the symptoms of dehydration- dry mouth, fatigue, dizziness, the whole works. However, as an angel, he didn’t actually know what it was like to _feel_ all of these thing.

Well, as Dean would so eloquently put it- it sucks.

And speaking of thirst- _Dean._ Personally, Cas would much prefer having Dean than water at the moment. Or at any moment, really. Dean. How is he? How is Sam? Did they complete the trials? Is Sam dead? Is Dean broken? Cas should have stayed. He knew this with 100% certainty. He knew it as he flew away. He knew it as he landed in heaven. He definitely knew it now.

Too late. Knowledge won’t fix his actions. It won’t fix Dean, or Sam, or heaven- all of which he categorically failed. What he knows know is that when—if—he sees Dean again, there will be hell to pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this one is really short but they'll get longer eventually. I'll try to post at least once a week, if not more. Just fyi, ***** signals a changing point of view, ----- means it's still the same character. Anyways, thanks for reading and good luck.


	2. Chapter 2

Cas had never resented his footwear so much until now. Of course, he supposed it had never really mattered before. But it did now. Turns out that business shoes weren’t great for trekking long distances. His socks slid across his rubber soles in a way that he was sure would leave him with blisters. He could feel each pebble under his soles as he took step after step towards an unknown destination. Ah, that brings up another pressing matter- _Where was he?_ He had woken up in a field of grass, and was currently walking along a deserted dirt road. He was relatively confident that he was somewhere in the United States. But which state? Was he going north or south? East or west? More importantly, was he walking towards Dean, or away from him?

Did he even _want_ to walk towards Dean? Of course, he wanted to be with Dean. Dean was the bane of his existence, at this point. The real problem was whether or not Dean would want to see him. The last this Castiel wanted was to burden him with his presence.

Regardless, Castiel put one foot in front of the other, and kept going.

\-----

Castiel was lost. Physically, emotionally, mentally. He was lost in his thoughts, in his feelings. As of right now, he was focusing on how warm he felt. Just hours ago he was cold and shivering. Now he was baking, the sun was cooking his skin and frying him alive. He was so lost in the sensation that he didn’t notice where he was until the warmth suddenly stopped.

\-----

A building. He was standing next to a building. It was providing him with shade. It was providing him with hope. He had reached some form of civilization.

He just wasn’t certain what, exactly, he was hoping for.

\----------

At first, the buildings were few and far between. Eventually, though, the population and structure became denser, and Cas’s surroundings became louder.

He had better hearing as an angel, of course, but something about this was different. He couldn’t just tune out, or mute the background noise. He could hear the thrum of car’s engines, faint echoes of people’s shouts and conversations. Somewhere in the distance, a dog was barking. It was overwhelming. At the same time, it was almost too quiet. He couldn’t hear the ever-present voices of the heavenly host calling out orders and passing on important information.

Then again, he wasn’t sure he would like to hear what his brothers must be saying about him right now.

Luckily, he still had _some_ grace left. It was a small amount, hardly useful to him. Definitely not enough to sustain him. But as he strolled through the streets, Castiel began to form a plan. Maybe, just maybe, there was enough grace left to help Dean in some way. It would be foolish to assume he could heal Sam’s major injuries, let alone bring him back from the dead. But maybe Sam was alive, and just needed some minor healing. Okay, that was wishful thinking. But Cas was desperate at this point. He just needed to be sure Dean was okay. Of course he cared about Sam, too, but he and Dean had always shared a more profound bond.

*****  
‘Profound bond, my ass,’ Dean thought ruefully as he scrubbed at the dishes with a bit more aggression that strictly necessary.  Where was that ‘profound bond’ when Cas cozied up to Crowley? Where was that ‘profound bond’ when Cas decided he’d rather be in purgatory than with Dean? Where was that ‘profound bond’ when Cas fucked off to heaven- _again_ \- as Sammy was dying and Dean needed him?

As far as Dean was concerned, that was just a lie Cas made up to gain their trust. Otherwise, Cas would be here by now. He would be begging for forgiveness and trying to set things right. He would be healing Sammy so that Ezekiel could get the hell out of his baby brother’s meat suit. He would at least be a little fucking concerned about Sam, or Dean, for that matter.

Even as Dean forcefully shut off the faucet and began drying the dishes, the water continued to fall.

*****

Apparently, Cas was currently within the outer edges of a small city named Oxford, Mississippi. 

Good news was that Cas now knew which direction to walk in to reach Lebanon, Kansas. The bad news was that it would take about two weeks to walk there. Until then, Cas had no food, no water, and no, well, anything. Using the little grace he had left would drain it, and Cas couldn’t bear the thought of wasting his opportunity to redeem himself to the Winchesters. Of course, dying wouldn’t help get his grace to them either. Cas had to find a way to get to the bunker sooner. Clearly flying was out of the question without his grace. He doubted he could make it by walking, and he didn’t have money for a bus ticket, let alone a plane. Driving was the obvious answer, but it was also obvious that driving wasn’t exactly an option at this point.

That left Cas with one option- hitchhiking.

\-----

Hitchhiking was more difficult than anticipated. After about an hour or so of walking along the highway with his thumb in the air, Cas managed to entice one sweet old lady into giving him a ride. Unfortunately, she was not driving to Lebanon, Kansas. She did agree to drive him about fifty miles to the town of Senatobia.

When they arrived, Cas thanked her, got out, and set off on foot once again. 50 miles. Decent, sure, but would it be enough? The bunker was almost 1,000 miles away. Cas’s hope was withering, and he wasn’t sure he was going to make it in time.

Then he saw it. A truck stop. Jackpot.

\-----

Cas’s hope was slightly overshadowed by caution as he approached. The parking lot reeked of the stench of oil on hot asphalt.  There we gruff looking men everywhere, milling around a lot packed with semis. Cas felt eyes on him, and sure enough, a group of them were staring right at him. One of them nodded his head at Cas as he said something to his companions that made them snicker. They appeared to be sizing him up, and Castiel’s tension rose as he squared his shoulders in an attempt to look more intimidating. They notice, and laugh.

Well, so much for that plan. There had been a time when Castiel could intimidate even the strongest of men. The man who nodded earlier gestured at him to go over. Cas wasn’t sure he wanted to. He did anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to post at least once a week, but it may vary depending on my schedule. I'm open to any thoughts or comments you may have.


	3. Chapter 3

Currently, Castiel was pleasantly surprised, pleasantly warm, and pleasantly satisfied. Not only had the man offered him a ride, but food and water as well. They were headed to a small town called Harrisonville, just a 45-minute drive away from Kansas City. It would be a long drive, about seven hours, but at least it was better than walking.

The truck reeked of stale cigarette smoke and tension, and Cas was more than a little uncomfortable with the way the guy (Larry apparently) kept looking at him, but then again, beggars can’t be choosers. By the time they crossed through the Arkansas border and into Missouri, Castiel was fast asleep.

*****

‘Beggars can’t be choosers,’ Dean reminded himself for the hundredth time that day. Sure, maybe there was an angel possessing Sammy, the King of Hell in the dungeon, and a thousand pissed off angels on Earth, but at least Sam was alive, right? Right. Kind of. I mean, don’t get it wrong, Dean was grateful and all that shit. He just…

It sucks okay? And with angels on the loose, Dean didn’t even want to think about what that meant for dear old Castiel. But he did think about it. A lot. The bastard didn’t even have his phone, and Dean’s phone may have accidentally gotten smashed during a fit of anger the night of the whole last trail fiasco. Point was, Dean had no way of reaching Cas. For all he knew, Cas could be dead in a ditch by now. Or enjoying the solitude of heaven with Metatron. Unlikely, sure, but Dean wouldn’t be surprised by much at this point. I mean, the dude knew their address at least. Couldn’t he bother to send a letter or something, if he was ‘too busy’ to just fly over? In fact, he could probably just teleport the letter itself. Even just a sticky note saying “I’m alive” would be better than nothing.

But no. Cas was fucking around trying to ‘help’ heaven again, not Dean and Sammy. Well, screw him. Dean and his bottle of whiskey could do just fine on their own.

*****

Castel woke up to blinding sun in his eyes and a hand that was not his own on his thigh. Alarmed, he sat up quickly. Too quickly, apparently. A wave of dizziness washed over him, accompanied by a brand new feeling- nausea. Great.

“Woah there, buddy, slow down.”

Castiel fought through disorientation and took in his surrounds. Larry. Right. He was in a truck with Larry, hitching a ride. Slowly, Cas squinted his eyes and looked down at the hand still on his thigh, then looked out the window, then back to the hand, before finally resting is gaze on Larry. Castiel struggled to find a polite way to ask what the hell was going on.

He settled for the least awkward way. “Uh, Larry… Why are we stopped?”

“Well,” began Cas’s delightful companion with a somewhat repulsive smirk on his face, “I figured I’d collect your payment before we got into town.”

Well, shit. Castiel’s eyes widened with panic, “Oh, no, I… I apologize, Sir, but I don’t have any money”

The smirk turned into a shark-tooth grin, “Oh, don’t worry sweetheart, I know that. This payment I’m thinking of is a little more, well, personal.”

And with that, Larry unzipped his pants and pulled out. _Shit_. Castiel had spent millennia observing humans. He wasn’t completely naïve, he had a feeling where this was going. He just hoped he was wrong. “I- I’m sorry, I just, I’m not sure I understand what your implying”

Larry was losing patience, and fast. “Well, sugar, I’m ‘ _implying’_ that you use your pretty little mouth to show me how grateful you are to me for driving you as far as I did.” For once, Castiel was never so disappointed to be right. He wasn’t sure he could do this. Morally? Maybe. Doing sexual favors wasn’t nearly as bad as releasing Leviathan on the Earth, destroying heaven, or betraying Dean. But physically? Mentally? Castiel hadn’t the slightest clue about the mechanics of preforming fellatio. He’d certainly never wanted to, except maybe on- _no._ Now is not the time for that. Castiel’s mind raced and he shifted his eyes, considering his options. Larry had pulled into a groove of trees along a dirt road in the secluded forest. If Castiel attempted to leave now, he risked retaliation from Larry, as well as a night in the forest alone. He’d be back to square one, lost, injured, abandoned, and alone in the woods.

Larry exhales sharply, frustration written across his face. “Look, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll throw in my water canteen, two sandwiches, and, uh…” Larry rummaged around a compartment before pulling out a paper with a victorious grin, “aha, found it! There, I’ll give you a map, too. How about that, huh?”

Cas considered it. He had no idea how long it would take him to reach the bunker. He would definitely need sustenance soon, and the map would be crucial to finding the bunker if he had to walk. He had to get to Dean. He knew what he had to do. With one last assessing look at Larry, he gave a curt nod, and dove in.

\-----

Without a doubt, that was the single, most disgusting experience of Castiel’s entire existence. He crossed the street quickly, ignoring the honking cars urging him to go faster. The drive into the city afterward had been awkward, to say the least, but Larry let him out and given him the stuff as promised.  Castiel had vigorously swished water around his mouth at least three times, but the taste just wouldn’t go away. Oh well. Cas had water, food, a map, and only about three hundred miles left to get to Dean. It was worth it. Anything was worth it, for Dean.

*****

Dean felt utterly fucking worthless. He had come _this_ close to letting Sammy die. Again. Dean was the big brother. He was supposed to protect Sammy, no matter what. But apparently he couldn’t even do that right.

Not only was it Dean’s fault that Sammy had gotten hurt in the first place, but then he had to go and betray his brother’s wishes and let an angel hijack his body. Oh boy. Dean couldn’t even imagine how livid Sam would be once he found.

Dean tipped the bottle back with a sigh. As of right now, his only sense of warmth came from the fire pouring down his throat and smothering his thoughts in smoke.

*****

Twelve hours later, Castiel had finally made it across the Kansas border. He had successfully hitched two more rides (without performing fellatio), walked about twenty miles, and consumed half a sandwich.

One thing about this journey that genuinely surprised Castiel was the fact that he had yet to encounter other fallen angels. One would think, that with the entirety of the heavenly host roaming the Earth, Castiel would have been found and killed within hours. Unless, of course, the angels are all dead. Not exactly a comforting thought.

Anyways, going by his map, Castiel was somewhere just west of Junction City. Night had fallen, but Castiel had decided to press on. He had to find another ride. Dean needed him. Well, he needed Dean more, but Castiel’s needs weren’t important. He’d learned that years ago.


	4. Chapter 4

 

The minute Castiel stepped out of the car and into the city of Ebson, it began to rain. Hard. He was tempted to turn and ask the driver to take him somewhere else, but they were already driving off. Castiel sighed and adjusted his trench coat. He began to walk along the street, sticking next to the building and ducking under awnings as much as possible. He was just passing an ally when he heard someone call, “Hey you! Trench coat!”

Cas nearly jumped out of his skin, glancing around before cautiously entering the ally. “Uhm, hello? Is someone there?”

A chuckle sounded, barely heard over the sound of rain pounding down, “Yeah, dumbass, over here.”

Cas’s eyebrows creased as he attempted to discern whether or not he should be insulted. He stepped further into the ally, and noticed a man bundled up inside a dumpster that had been turned on it’s side.

“Hey buddy, you got somewhere to go? I mean, are you homeless or not?”

Cas stepped closer and leaned down to peer at the man, tilting his head sideways. “I don’t… well, I mean yes, I suppose so.”

“Well then, hurry up and get in here. You’re gonna freeze to death out there.”

After briefly considering his (limited) options, Cas ducked into the tight space and out of the rain. He scanned the man, soaking in his appearance. Shaggy brown hair, a lip ring, and pale amber eyes stared back at him.

“So, whad’ya mean you ‘suppose’ your homeless? It’s a petty straight forward question, dude.” The man had a strange accent, almost like a New Yorker, and he appeared to be slightly younger than Jimmy’s vessel. Well, Cas’s vessel now. Jimmy was long gone, and Cas was human. He supposed this body was his own from now on.

After considering the question, Cas hesitantly replied, “It’s, um, rather complex. You see, I was recently…kicked out… of my old place. Right now I’m trying to get to my friend’s house.”

“Ah, I see. Well, I’d say that qualifies as being homeless, so welcome to the hobo club, man. The only free membership you’ll find around here.” The man offered him a crooked grin, “I’m Jake, by the way. The friendly neighborhood dealer.”

Cas’s face scrunched up as he squinted at Jake. “Dealer?” he echoed.

Jake raised his eyebrows. “Uh, yeah, dealer. You know, like drugs?” He huffed in disbelief at Castiel’s blank stare, “Damn, you need to get out more. I sell drugs. Illegally, of course. Weed, meth; uppers, downers; pills, liquids. The whole mix. That gonna be a problem?” He shot Cas a warning glare, and he realized with some fondness that Jake reminded him of a strange mix of Gabriel and Meg.

“No, no, it shouldn’t be a problem.” And really, why would it be? Castiel’s crimes were much more substantial.

Jake grinned, “Good. Now what’s your name, where are ya from? Give me your story, man.”

Cas gave him a highly edited version of his story. He decided to go with the name Clarence, rather than his true identity. He suspected Jake knew he was lying, but Jake didn’t seem to care. He told Jake he came from a strict, and large, family. He told him he’d never known his mother, that his father had left years ago, and that the family was a shattered mess of its former self. He told him that he met a man named Dean, and that they saved each other. He told him that Dean was his everything, and that no matter how hard he tried, he always seemed to fail him. He took out a sandwich and split one with Jake as he told him about how far he had traveled on his trip. He didn’t tell him what he did to get the sandwiches. He didn’t tell him that he had stolen countless innocent lives. He didn’t tell him that he had nearly ended the world on multiple occasions.

In return, Jake told him that he was, in fact, from New York. He told him he had been living on the street for years. He told him where to get free stuff, how to dumpster dive safely, how to win over peoples’ pity. He told him what times were the best for hitchhiking, how to make your food supply last, where to go to get help. He said, “Always check the dumpsters at grocery stores, because they throw away food that’s still in sealed containers”. He said, “Never, ever, pop a blister, especially on your foot. I mean, your pretty muck asking for infection”. He said, “If you’re stuck outside at night in the cold, use whatever’s around to make shelter, like, for example, a sideways dumpster”.

He grinned and said, “You know Clarence, you’re a pretty cool dude. And not just because you gave me a sandwich.”

He smiled and said, “If you decide to stick around, we should hang out. I like you, man.”

He laughed when he saw Cas’s eyes drooping shut and said, “It’s alright man, you can fall asleep. I’ll keep guard.”

He looked sincere and said, “No worries man, I got your back”.

Cas smiled sleepily and said, “Thank you Jake. I enjoy your company as well. There’s still another half a sandwich left in my coat pocket. You may have it if you wish.”

Jake smiled and said, “Awesome, dude. ‘Night.”

Cas fell asleep with a smile on his face.

When Castiel woke up in the morning, he felt warm. He was underneath a dirty wool blanket (probably Jake’s) and surrounded by the vague smell of rotting food (probably the dumpster).

“Ah, rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” Jake said in a voice decidedly far too chipper for this time of day. Cas grumbled in response and dragged a hand over his face, before rolling over and laying back down Jake laughed. “Not a morning person, I see.”

Cas reluctantly had to agree, although, just a week ago he hadn’t been a person at all. However, as much as he would love nothing more than to stay in the warmth of that dumpster for all eternity, Cas knew he had to get up and get to Dean soon. So he sucked it up, and sat up, resisting the urge to return to his cocoon of smelly comfort. Once he had somewhat gathered his wits, he noticed two things. 1) There was some type of candy bar on his lap (definitely better than a hand on his thigh), and 2) Jake was holding a bag filled with little white pills.

“Uhm, good morning… What are you doing?” Jake glanced up, seeming mildly surprised by Cas’s question.

“Well, I got a new batch of these yesterday, and I figured I’d sort them. Better than sitting here doing nothing I suppose.” Jake shrugged and went back to work. He appeared to be separating them into little bags, five pills in each.

“Oh. Okay.” Castiel squinted at the tablets, trying to discern what they were. He failed, so he gave up and simply asked Jake.

“These bad boys? Ecstasy. Let’s just say they’re named that for a reason. And I mean, their good on their own, but if you use them with weed? It’s amazing, man. They’ll make you forget everything bad, take away all the pain, all the hunger, all the hurt. You feel like you’re flying. These are like your own private gateway to heaven.”

Castiel scrutinized the small white pills. A gateway to heaven. Flying. Absolution from guilt, from loneliness, from _pain,_ both physical and mental. It almost sounded too good to be true. Jake must have seen him eyeing them, because he smiled and said, “Hey, man, you want some?”

And oh, did Castiel want some. He would do anything to get even a sliver of what Jake was describing. Almost anything. He resolved himself, and tried not to sound regretful when he said, “No thank you.” Jake’s eyebrows shot up, and Castiel sighed before elaborating. “Dean. I have to get to Dean. I can’t afford to get distracted.”

Jake just shrugged, “Suit yourself, man. I ain’t gonna pressure you. Oh yeah,” he motioned to the candy bar “I got that for you. It’s only fair, since you gave me a sandwich and all.”

Cas smiled gratefully, and picked the object up from his lap. He read the label and tilted his head. “What is a Snickers?” Jake laughed, “Man, you really don’t get out much do you? Just try it, they’re really good.”

Jake was right. It was really, really good. Castiel chewed thoughtfully, trying to figure out how he should word his question. Something had been bothering him, ever since Jake first offered Cas a space in his dumpster.

“Jake,” he began tentatively, “why… Why are you being kind to me. I mean, why should you trust me?” Why should anyone trust Castiel, really, after all he’s done?

“Well, I don’t.”

Oh. That explained a lot. Jake laughed at the expression on Cas’s face. “Not like that. I mean, I definitely didn’t trust you at first. Why do you think I stayed up to keep watch all night? But… I don’t know man. Something about you… look, I suck at explaining things. But believe me, I wouldn’t feel safe counting ecstasy in front of just anybody. Now stop making me sound liked a wuss, you hear me?”

Cas offered a small smile, “Yes, I hear you.” It felt nice. Being trusted. Castiel could get used to it, but he shouldn’t. He wouldn’t. But for now, he savored the feeling, before returning to savoring his ‘snickers’.

\-----

Fifteen minutes later, Cas knew he had to get going. From looking at his map, estimated it would take him less than an hour to get to the bunker, assuming he was able to get a few rides. Jake noticed him start to stand up. “Hey, ready to hit the road again?”

Castiel scrunched up his face, “Why would I punch the road?”

Jake just laughed, “Have a good one, Clarence. Remember my advice, and stay safe, alright?”

As he reached the entrance to the alley, Cas hesitated. “Uh, by the way, my name isn’t Clarence. It’s Cas. I- I lied. Sorry.” Cas looked down sheepishly, but he looked up when Jake replied, “No problem, man. And Cas? My real name is Malcom.”

\-----------

Castiel could hardly breathe. _Finally,_ he had made it home. He could hardly believe it. His clothes were a mess, his hair was probably greasy, and there was gum stuck the bottom of his left shoe, but he couldn’t care less. He closed his eyes, breathed in, and knocked.

*****

Dean woke up to a pounding headache. Ugh, he’d had way too much whiskey last night. Or not enough. He couldn’t tell yet.

He rolled out of bed, and nearly face planted as he gracefully tripped over an empty bottle. God dammit. Today was not off to a great start.

Fifteen minutes later, he was feeling a little better. He’d washed down some Tylenol with a fresh cup of coffee (black) and a plate of scrambled eggs with a side a bacon. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, but they flew right back open when he heard a knock at the door

‘ _What in the hell?’_

Not many people knew where the bunker was, but Dean supposed it could be Kevin… or Jody, or Garth, or Charlie, or…

Okay, so maybe the bunker’s location wasn’t top secret after all. But still, Dean grabbed his gun, loaded it, and cocked it as he walked up to the entrance. Just in case.

The door swung open. Dean dropped the gun.

“ _Cas_.”


	5. Chapter 5

So, Cas was alive. That was new (to Dean, at least).

Dean, needless to say, wasn’t quite sure how to feel. Relieved, obviously. Definitely surprised, if not shocked. Happy? Scared? Angry? Dean wasn’t sure. He wasn’t good at emotions. He decided to go with anger- it was familiar. Safe

 _‘Just like Cas_ ,’ supplied the traitorous part of his brain. Dean told it to go fuck itself.

*****

Sam dropped the cup he was holding as he walked straight into Castiel.

“Cas! Holy crap, man. You- I- We thought you were dead!”

Cas gave him a tired smile, “It is pleasing to see that you are doing well, Sam.”

“Uh, yeah man, of course- it’s- wait- are you- you’re human,” Sam’s eyes were the size of saucers, and Castiel managed to chuckle.

“Yes, Sam, I’m human now. I would like to continue our conversation, but Dean has instructed me to shower.”

“Oh, yeah, okay sure. I, uh… I’ll see you later Cas. Good to have you back.”

Cas had already turned to leave, so he didn’t see the way Sam’s eyes flashed blue the second he’d finished speaking.

\--------

Cas had no idea that showers could feel _so good_. He scrubbed away layers of dirt that he hadn’t even known were on him, and he allowed his mind to settle. He was home. He could finally relax.

Seeing Dean again had made the whole trip worth it. Even the truck drive.

And Sam, of course. Sam. He was doing surprisingly well, up and walking about-although somewhat weak. The trials had failed, but both Dean and Cas agreed that this outcome was much better than the alternative. Cas lathered soap in his hair and sighed. All that was left to do was give the little grace he had left, then his mission would be complete.

******

 “Dean”

Dean glanced up at Sam with a grin. “Heya, Sammy. How’re you feeling?”

“It’s not Sam.”

 _Ezekiel._ Deans face fell, but he quickly tried to conceal it with a weak smile. “Oh, hey. Uh, how it going. Is something wrong with Sam?”

“No, I am not concerned with Sam at the moment. Castiel on the other hand—”

“What’s wrong with Cas?” And damn, Dean really shouldn’t sound so concerned. He was supposed to be mad at Cas. _Come on, man, get your head in the game._

“Nothing is ‘wrong’ with him. However, I would advise you to think twice about letting him seek refuge with you.” Dean’s defenses shot up immediately, but Ezekiel rushed on, “Dean, listen. It’s far too risky. Angels are hunting him; his presence puts you- _Sam_ \- in danger. I have no quarrel with Castiel. He and I fought side by side on the battle field, and that’s exactly the issue. Angel or not, he will recognize me. Please understand, but that is not a risk I am willing to take.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, already dreading where this was going. “So, let me get this straight. It’s either you go, or Cas does. Is that what I’m hearing?”

Ezekiel squirmed slightly under Dean’s scrutiny. “Dean, it’s not so much a choice between me or Castiel. It’s a choice between Castiel or Sam. And I suspect your preferred option is quite clear.”

Dean’s resolve crumbled, and he hated himself for how easily he made his decision.

\-----------

Castiel moaned around the burrito in his mouth, making Dean shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“Oh, Dean, this is amazing. I had no idea this would taste so good. And the _shower_. I wish I could stay in there all day.” Cas was practically gushing, and he had the most pleased expression on his face.

Dean didn’t think anything remotely related to how cute Cas looked. Really, he didn’t.

The thought of Castiel in the shower didn’t help matters much, either. But Dean didn’t try to picture Cas naked, lathered up in soap with water dripping down his- _ahem. Anyways._ Dean didn’t think those things. Why would he? Cas was his friend. His friend, who he was about to kick onto the streets. Dean winced at the thought. _Talk about a mood killer._

Dean waited until Cas finished his food before clearing his throat. “So… uh, Cas. Look man, it’s great to have you here. Really, it is.  But uh, look, you’re being hunted. And I would really, really love to help you out but Sammy… He’s not up for that yet. He’s barely recovered from the trials, and if an angel attacks—”

“You want me to leave,” Cas cut him off. His tone was grave, and when Dean braved a glance at him his mouth was a grimace. Castiel focused his gaze on Dean, and his expression softened. “It’s okay, Dean. Really. I’ll be fine.”

And _no, no, no._ It wasn’t _okay._ And Cas definitely shouldn’t have that expression on his face. He looked so resolved, so accepting. Like he completely understood why Dean- his _friend_ \- was kicking his ass to the curb. Because he didn’t- maybe Cas thought he understood, but he didn’t. He should be angry, bitter, kicking and screaming, anything but this.

“Cas,” Dean started, but his voice cracked and he had to start again. “Cas, look, it’s not like-”

“Dean. It’s fine.” His voice was firm but gentle, and his eyes were sad but fond. “However, I would like to request just one thing, if that’s alright.”

“Anything, Cas,” Dean replied earnestly, and he meant it. “What is it?”

Cas looked Dean straight in the eyes, his face solemn and his voice serious. “Another burrito.”

Dean barked out a laugh, and Cas grinned so wide that Dean’s heart melted. “Sure, man. We can do that.”

In the end, Dean sent Cas out with two burritos, five bottles of water, crackers, oranges, a blanket, a toothbrush (and tooth paste), a phone with Dean’s new number on it, five hundred bucks, a backpack, and a brief (manly) hug.

“Take care, Cas.”

“I will. Thank you, Dean.” The idiot really shouldn’t be thanking him, but Dean nodded anyways. Cas had one foot out the door before he turned back suddenly. “Oh! Dean, I forgot, I…”

Dean really hoped Cas wasn’t going to ask Dean to change his mind, because he couldn’t bear to turn him away again. Instead, Cas said, “When Metatron took my grace, he missed a very small piece. I still have some grace left Dean.”  
Relief flooded Dean’s chest, and he smiled at Cas. “Really? That’s great, man.”

Castiel nodded, and then the bastard but his fingers to Dean’s head and drained the last of his powers on Dean. Cas nodded again, pleased with the result. “The discomfort in your feet and back are gone, and I restored your liver.” Then, he was gone.

*****

Castiel shouldn’t have been surprised. He should have known that Dean wouldn’t want him anymore.

And really, why would he? Castiel had betrayed the Winchesters countless times. Despite his best intentions, he had failed them again and again. His presence by their side was something to be endured, not enjoyed. The only reason they could possibly stand to tolerate his presence was because of his powers. And now, Castiel couldn’t even offer them that.

He was useless. He knew, Heaven knew it, Dean and Sam definitely knew it. And yet Dean, sweet Dean- bless his heart- had tried to let Castiel down easy. Dean owed him nothing, and yet he was gracious enough to offer Cas supplies and pity. Fondness bubbled up in Castiel’s chest, swirling together with a new batch of human emotions. Despair, guilt, worthlessness, hopelessness. As an angel Castiel had thought he knew what it was like to feel those things. He was wrong. Very wrong. As a human the feelings were intensified, vying for attention, refusing to be ignored. The surrounded Castiel; smothered his mind and cloaked him as if trying to suffocate him.

But not all was lost. Now- with nowhere to go- Castiel found a new purpose. His preferred home was wherever Dean was, of course, but seeing as that was no longer an option… Well, Castiel was going to have to settle for Heaven, even if he planned to get there by less than conventional methods.


	6. Heaven

Mist blanketed the streets as Castiel reached his destination. The humidity clung to his clothes, but he paid it no mind. He was focused only on the surprised face in front of him.

“Oh! Uh, hey. Wasn’t expecting to see you again.”

Castiel attempted to replace the weariness in his bones with determination. He adjusted his facial expression to convey what he hoped was upmost certainty, and leaned forward. “Jake. I believe I would like to accept your prior offer, if it is still available. I- I would like to try ‘ecstasy’ as you called it.”

\------------------

He couldn’t believe it. He was an angel again. He had to be- it was the only explanation. Except- except maybe not. Because this? It was far better than the effects of grace.

 Castiel could taste the air. He took sips through his nose, gulps through his mouth. He could feel it, too; he moved his arm and it pushed back against him before gliding around him. As he breathed in smoke from the thing Jake gave him. He could feel it intertwine with the air as it glided down his lungs. He could feel each breath because he could feel the way his lungs pressed against his insides.

And the wall- he had never, _ever,_ noticed how beautiful bricks looked. Not even as an angel. Each pigment of red and orange and brown popped out at him. Every molecule and electron and proton and neutron appeared crystal clear.

The sun was so bright that Castiel was certain it must be God in the air. He tried to stand and fly to it but he lost balance and fell instead. His skin felt every centimeter of concrete it impacted and yet it didn’t hurt at all. Every rock and every pebble and every grain of dirt underneath his body pressed against him as though they were trying to embed themselves in his skin, yet somehow it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, this was the most comfortable Castiel had ever been.

The sky was rose and the sun was leaving but that was okay because now the air tasted even better. It was gold and pink and purple and Castiel wished with all his being that he could show it to Dean. He tried to memorize the way it looked so he could tell Dean about it later but apparently he took too long because the roses and golds and violets were gone and millions of glittering stars took their place. His eyes bloomed with awe as he looked up and he swore he could see the explosion as stars blinked into existence just before another one was smothered away.

 As an angel he had seen galaxies form but this- this was different. It was better than anything Castiel had experienced before (except Dean. Nothing was better than Dean) and Cas found himself thinking that he would be happy never seeing or feeling his grace again. He had something much better than grace, and all he needed to do to use it was swallow a little white pill and inhale some sweet smelling smoke.

\----------

Darkness. It was so dark. Castiel couldn’t see anything.

And he panicked. He sat up fast, so fast his head collided with something metal. A thud reverberated through the space he was in. He was in a box. A metal box. A smelly metal box.

He wondered if the angels had found him. He wondered if this was the end. He wondered if it was strange that he didn’t care if it was.

He heard footsteps echoing outside. He heard them stop and then- brightness. Blinding brightness and a far too chipper voice saying, “Hey there, Clarence.”

 _Oh_. The alley. The dumpster. Jake (well, Malcom). He was in an alley, in Jake’s dumpster, and the lid had been closed.

Well, now Castiel just felt stupid. _Way to be overdramatic._ He felt his face flush and he looked down as he greeted Jake in return. Jake didn’t seem to notice, he just propped the lid open and climbed in next to Cas.

“So, are you gonna tell me why you’re back? I would have asked last night, but you didn’t seem to be in the mood for talking.”

Jake isn’t pressing, but Castiel still squirms under his curious gaze.  “I- it’s… complex. My friend- he was- he’s very busy.”

Jake rose his eyebrows in response, “Huh. That doesn’t sound like a very good ‘friend’ to me.”

Castiel’s eyes flashed as his whole body tensed. Jake just shrugged and raised his hands in mock surrender. “Look man, I’m not trying to start a fight. I mean, at least he gave you that bag right?”

The change in subject brought down some of the tension in Cas’s shoulders, and he relaxed slightly. “Ah, yes. That reminds me” He shifted through the bag and tossed a burrito to Jake.

“Woah. Déjà vu.” Jake laughed at the way Cas’s face scrunched up. “Never mind. Anyways, I could get used to this whole you giving me food thing.”

The both munched on their meals in relative silence until Jake shifted and cleared his throat. “So, uh… We gonna talk about the elephant in the room?”

“What elephant?” Castiel was beyond bewildered. Maybe Jake was under the influence of drugs. Not unlikely, exactly, but Jake seemed pretty normal at the moment.

“Well, first of all- this ain’t gonna work out for long. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind you staying here. But it’s not safe- for me or you. Look, there’s a reason why dealers don’t room with addicts. And speaking of drugs. I’m guessing you’re gonna want more based off of your reaction last night. And I’m happy to share any cheap extras I have in stock. But I have a business to run. You can stay till you get yourself back on your feet, but then you’ve gotta scoot.”

Second thing-you’re gonna have to find a job. Not like I’m gonna charge you rent or anything, just for like general living expenses you know? You’re gonna need clothes, food, hygiene products, shelter- if you get sick of me.

And one more thing. When I told you my real name, I assumed I would never see you again. I’m pretty sure you were thinking the same thing when you told me yours. But those names stay between us. I’m Jake, you’re Clarence, got it?”

 

Great, he was being kicked out. Again. He couldn’t blame Jake, or Dean -for that matter. He knew he deserved worse. He _knew_ that. So why did it make him feel this way? At least he didn’t have to leave immediately. Cas shifted, trying to find the right words. “Yes, I understand. I am grateful for the generosity you have already granted me. It’s just… The job. I- I don’t have papers, or experience.” His cheeks are once again tinged pink with shame as he looks down at his lap. Twice in one morning. Nice.

Jake runs his hand through his hair and huffs. “Okay, shoot. That narrows down your options. It looks like you’re gonna be stuck with street jobs then.” Cas tilts his head and opens his mouth, but Jake beats him to it. “Street jobs. Like, I don’t know, offering services. If you’re lucky there’s lawn maintenance, cleaning, you know, like odd jobs and stuff.”

Dread creeps on Cas. He doesn’t know how to do those things. Sure, they sound simple enough, but Castiel has a knack for, as Dean would put it, ‘fucking up’. He hesitates, not sure if he wants to know the answer, “And, if you aren’t lucky?”

“Well, then you pretty much get stuck with the dirty work. Robbery, dealing, prostitution-”

“Prostitution?” And damn, Cas really didn’t mean to make his voice sounds so shrill. _Great job, he won’t find that suspicious at all._

Jake groans. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you don’t know what that is.”

Cas ducks his head again, “no- I mean yes -I, I know what it is.” His thoughts are racing. Does exchanging fellatio for travel count as prostitution? Surely it must. He felt queasy at the thought, but really, what was one more sin? It was practically inconsequential compare to his other crimes.

The choice was clear, although not preferred. He couldn’t- _wouldn’t-_ hurt anymore people. Robbery was out of the question. He also couldn’t take business from Jake. Even if Jake offered to ‘employ’ Cas, Jake would be losing money. No, the real choice here wasn’t between robbery, dealing, or prostitution. It was between sacrificing others, or himself.

Castiel swallowed, steeled himself, and made his decision.

\-----

Castiel bounced on the balls of his feet. The street light above him was flickering obnoxiously, but he supposed he should be grateful for any light at all.

“ _Remember, only work this corner. Anywhere else, and you’ll probably piss off a hooker by stealing their turf.”_

Jake had walked him through the basics. He showed him where to go, what body language to do, and helped him buy condoms. Then he left,

“ _Sorry man, but I’ve got drugs to deal. Besides, if I stand next to you the whole time no one’ll want to pick you up.”_

Castiel tried not to think about the last time he stood waiting under the glow of a street lamp. He tried not think about the warm smile directed at him once long ago, and how he’d thought it was brighter than any light could ever be. He tried not to think about the warm hand on his shoulder or the green eyes boring their way into his heart. He tried not to think about the warm feeling in his chest.

He didn’t want to think about these things. Because tonight was cold, cold, cold, and Castiel feared that the warmth of the memories would dissipate against the bitter night air. He feared that the radiant smile would crumple under the knowledge that if Dean could see him now, he’d be frowning. He feared that the comforting hand would morph and twist until it was no different than the hands that the night’s activities would bring, and that the green eyes would fix him with a seething glare. He feared that the fire in his heart would be smothered under the suffocating dread that filled him now.

So he tried not to think about those memories.

As always, he failed.

*****

_Success!_

Dean threw down his cards in triumph. “Take that, Sammy!”

Sam groaned and slumped in his chair, “Oh come on, Dean, that’s not fair-”

“Nuh-uh, no way. I won fair and square, and you know it! You’re just whining because I win the last slice.”

Oh shit. Puppy eyes activated. Abort, abort. “Please, Dean? Come on, I’m still recovering.” He coughed into his hand for added effect.

Dean rolled his eyes but split the pizza in two and handing Sammy half.

Sam grinned. “Did I ever tell you you’re the best brother ever?”

 “No,” Dean replied flatly. Sam just shook his head before happily devouring his share of the last slice.

*****

That night, Castiel lost his virginity in a gritty alley to a man with a missing tooth. He made seventy-five dollars, but ended up vomiting the burrito he had eaten earlier. It also hurt. A lot.

After that, he decided not to preform anal sodomy for the rest of the night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you don't get confused: one part of this chapter briefly touches on both Dean's and Cas’s points of view. Its mostly from Cas’s perspective, but it will mention a little bit of how Dean is feeling. I will mark it with (+++++)

Three weeks later, Castiel had finally mastered his new job. He was ashamed of his pride in accomplishing this feat, but had learned to ignore his feelings. They didn’t matter anyways.

Jake had given Cas something called ‘weed’ a few days after his first night, and Castiel hadn’t gone to work without it since. At this point he wasn’t even sure how he’d survived the first few days without it.

Castiel managed to bring in about one-hundred dollars per night. He had saved up enough to buy some new (used) clothes and a sleeping bag at Goodwill. Jake had helped him pick them out. His backpack now contained his new wardrobe, deodorant, a bottle of assorted pills, some weed, condoms, a water, and trail mix. He usually had enough money to buy some pastries every morning; Dean’s burritos had been finished off long ago. He hadn’t used the cellphone yet. He refused to burden Dean more than he already had.

He was able to somewhat maintain his hygiene by washing up in single stall restrooms on a semi-daily basis, which was relieving. Castiel hated the feeling of dirt on his skin, and cleaning up was essential with his job. He had also learned to prep himself before heading out each night to save from most of the pain.

Jake still provided him with ecstasy from time to time, and those were the moments Cas loved the most.

He and Jake had recently been scoping out other nearby alleyways for Cas to leave when he was ready. He’s nowhere near being able to afford a cheap apartment, but a dumpster set up similar to Jake’s should do the trick.

This was his new life. Without grace. Without Dean. Without a family.

And while he wouldn’t call it living, per say, he was getting by.

And that was enough.

*****

“This is enough, Ezekiel!”

“Dean—”

“No! This is getting ridiculous! Look, I get why you had me kick Cas out- well, actually, fuck it, I don’t get it. But whatever, alright, it’s fine. But you won’t even let me look for him? It’s been a month! He could be dead!” Dean’s chest was heaving as he glared at what was supposed to be his brother’s body, turned into a meatsuit for some self-righteous dick with wings.

“You should be very careful about how you speak to me, Dean. You seem to forget that I am the only thing keeping your brother above ground.”

Dean scoffed, “Oh believe me, I wish I could forget that fact,” he dragged his hand down his face and tried to collect himself. “Look, man. Cas is family. He’s one of the few important people in my life left on this godforsaken world- _if_ he is even still on earth. He could be under it by now. Or even heaven, somehow. I don’t know, maybe Metatron got to him. Or maybe he’s been kidnapped by angels, or demons, or any of the other enemies we have at this point. I just want to know if he’s okay. Is that really so much to ask?”

Dean forced his eyes to meet Ezekiel’s, but the asshole wouldn’t budge.

“Yes, actually, it is too much to ask, Dean. There are more important things on the line—like, need I remind you yet again—your brother’s life.” Ezekiel’s fire gaze didn’t waver, and Dean sighed and looked away

Fine. He would just have to figure out some other way to get to Cas.

*****

“So, Clarence, you’re gay, right?”

“What? Why would you think that?”

He and Jake were laying side by side in the dumpster, staring up into the darkness. It was the middle of the night, and Cas had gotten back from work about an hour ago.

Cas could he Jake shuffle around. “I don’t know. I always just assumed you were. Your clients are always men, and I mean it’s pretty obvious you were in love with that Dean guy—”

 _“What?”_ Cas turned to look at Jake, or where he assumed Jake was in the dark.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you’re in denial.”

Cas was quiet for a few moments. Some part of him had always known that he loved Dean. Even from the beginning, he had always been drawn to him. It had gotten to the point where Balthazar, Meg, even Uriel would offhandedly mention it. Even now, when Dean had kicked him out, he knew he could never blame Dean. And as far as attraction… well, it was definitely there. No, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was how blatantly obvious his feelings seem to have been to Jake. Jake barely even knew him. If he was able to tell, then surely others could too. Perhaps that was the real reason Dean had kicked him out.

He was ripped from his thoughts by Jake’s voice.

“Look man, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything—”

“No, no its fine. You’re right.” Cas paused for a moment, thinking. “I suppose I’m not really sure. Dean is the only one I’ve really felt attracted to.”

He had enjoyed kissing Meg, but it wasn’t anywhere near the same as what he felt towards Dean. And he certainly didn’t enjoy interactions with his clients. They were both quiet for a few moments, until Cas’s curiosity got the best of him.

“What… what about you? Are you also interested in males?”

“Nope. Just girls, so don’t get any ideas. The last thing we need is you getting feelings for me, alright?”

Cas scoffed. “Oh believe me, I doubt you need to worry about that.”

“Hey! Jeez, when did you become such a smartass?”

“Jake, I don’t think asses are a part of the body capable of containing any form of intelligence—”

Jake groaned in response. “Shut up and go to bed, Clarence.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

“Whatever, man.”

Cas drifted off to sleep.

*****

Dean slowly drifted into awareness, woken by the smell of bacon wafting into his bedroom. He groaned and sat up, stretching his shoulders. A glance at the clock showed that it was barely seven a.m.

Jesus Christ, why the hell did Sammy have to get up so damn early.

He sauntered into the kitchen a few minutes later to find Sam standing at the stove.

“Heya, Sammy.”

Sam jumped and looked at him in shock.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re never up this early, Dean. Are you feeling okay?”

Dean rolled his eyes and swiped a piece of bacon, ignoring his brother’s protests.

He waited until they were both sitting down before starting step one of his plan. “So, uh, we’re running low on milk and stuff, so I was thinking I could run to the store today.”

Sam stuffed a piece a bacon in his mouth before nodding. “Yeah, that sounds good. I haven’t gone out in a while.”

Shit. “Sam, look, you aren’t ready to go out yet, man—” Sam activated his bitch-face and Dean sighed “—don’t give me that face, you know I’m right. Besides, I’ve been cooped up with you for a month, I need some me time with baby.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, it’s been a month—”

“No, Sam. Look, the next time we need to go on a supply run you can come okay? But only if you’re still doing good.”

After a lot of convincing, and groaning on Sam’s part, Dean succeeded. He decided not to leave until that evening, telling Sam that the stores would be less crowded. If the best-case scenario was true, then Cas would have a job by now. This was his only chance to get in touch with him, and he didn’t want Cas to miss his call because he was at work or something.

 He didn’t allow himself to relax until he was behind the wheel and on the road. It looked like Ezekiel hadn’t suspected anything, which was what Dean was going for. Once he got into town, he pulled into a parking lot and dug his phone out of his pocket. He pulled up the number of the phone he gave to Cas.

And he stared at it. And stared. And stared.

Come on, man up already. It’s just Cas. You can do this.

Right, “just” Cas. Dean snorted to himself.

Then, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and clicked send.

*****

Cas stood at his corner rocking back and forth on his feet. A couple nights ago he reluctantly invested in an eyeliner pencil, per Jake's recommendation. Because _“You never know, man, some guys are into that shit.”_

Turns out guys were into that shit.

The clients loved it.

It took a while to get the hang of applying it, but he’d managed to catch on. He’d had to go back to the store and buy a small mirror, but it worked well enough.

And, though Castiel hated to admit it, a small part of himself liked this job. It was refreshing to actually feel useful for once. And, since most of the time the clients did all of the work, it was pretty hard to mess up. He appreciated the fact that he was helping people, even if it was in an extremely unconventional way.

Cas was yanked from his thoughts by a buzzing sensation in his leg. No, on his leg. His phone. He had forgot he even had it. He always had it on him, though he knew Dean would never call.

But Dean was calling.

Shit.

He ducked into an alleyway where he wouldn’t be seen before pulling it out. Sure enough, the contact name said Dean.

Shit shit shit. Okay. Stay cool. He might need help or something. Or maybe he just called you on accident. Stay cool. Stay cool.

He hit answer and pressed the phone to his ear.

“Dean? What’s wrong? Is everything okay? Are you hurt?” His voice came out in a rush that was the exact epitome of uncoolness.

“Woah, calm down. Everything is fine. I just… I don’t know. I kinda wanted to chat, you know?”

Cas just stood there stunned, before clearing his throat. “Uh, Dean, I think you have the wrong number. This is Castiel.”

“No shit, Cas. Of course I know it’s you.”

“Oh.”

Well. This was strange.

“What, you think I don’t want to talk to you or something?”

Yes.

“No, no, Dean. It’s not that. It’s just, it’s been a while.”

“Yeah… yeah, it has been a while,” Dean stopped and cleared his throat. “Look, I’m really sorry about all this. I wish it didn’t have to be this way—”

“Dean, it’s fine.”

“No. It’s not fine, okay? I just, I miss you Cas.”

Cas’s breath caught in his throat. He tried to make his voice steady when he replied “I miss you too, Dean,” but of course he failed.

They were both silent for a few moments.

“So, uh, Cas… what have you been up to?” Dean winced. He sounded so lame.

Cas on the other hand, was trying to figure out what to say. He couldn’t tell Dean the truth. He couldn’t let Dean know how pathetic he truly was, how far he’d fallen.

He would just have to try to dodge the questions.

“Oh, you know, not much. Just doing human stuff, I guess.” He technically wasn’t lying. Drugs, homelessness, and prostitution _were_ things that humans did. Even if they weren’t exactly popular activities. He needed to change the subject. “How is Sam?”

Dean chuckled at his response, and Cas’s heart flipped at the sound. “Human stuff, eh? And Sammy’s doing fine, don’t worry about him. Do you, uh, you got a place to stay?”

“Of course. It’s—it’s nice. It’s a bit cramped, but I just bought a nice mirror for it. And I have a _very_ cozy blanket.”

Dean felt relief wash through him. Good, this was good. He had just been worried for nothing. “That’s great, Cas! I’m glad to hear it.”

Cas felt a pang of guilt for lying to Dean. He was still technically telling the truth, yes, but he knew what Dean would think if he were to find out. He would know that Castiel truly was useless.

“Hey, what town are you staying in anyways, Cas? Maybe I can drop by sometime.”

“No!” Cas winced. He had said that far too quickly. “No, Dean, really, it’s fine. I don’t want you to worry about me. Besides, it wouldn’t be safe for you.”

“Oh. Okay.” Dean tried not to feel hurt by Cas’s response. He tried, he really did. Maybe Cas just didn’t want to see Dean again. Dean couldn’t exactly blame him, after kicking him out like that.

They ended the call soon after that. Cas didn’t know why he felt so wrong about rejecting Dean’s offer to come. Dean probably only offered out of pity anyways. After all, why would he want to see Cas?

Cas was distracted for the rest of the night. His clients noticed of course. Some didn’t care, others were annoyed, and one almost seemed concerned for a split second but was soon distracted by Castiel’s skilled mouth.


	8. Chapter 8

Another week had passed. Dean hadn’t tried to contact him again, and Castiel wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or disappointed.

Currently Cas was leaning against a brick wall by his corner, smoking a joint. It was a Wednesday, which was typically one of the slower days of the week. Which was good, because it meant less work, but also bad because it meant less money.

Cas was jolted out of his thoughts by a screeching sound as a blur a silver came to a halt on the street in front of him. He nearly dropped his joint. He could tell the car was fancy, too fancy considering the part of town they were in. A man in an undoubtedly expensive suit opened the door and stepped out of the back before approaching Castiel. He had an arrogant smile plastered on and a stride that would make you think he ran the world. And he was walking straight towards Cas.

Castiel immediately straightened his posture, hoping that the man wasn’t an angel. But he had a gut feeling that this was just a normal guy.

He stopped right in front of Castiel, apparently unaware of the concept of personal space that Dean always talked about.

“So, tell me, what’s a pretty thing like you doing working the streets?”

From up close, it was obvious that the man was the definition of handsome. His features were reminiscent of Michelangelo’s David, and he had blond curly hair. Needless to say, he looked nothing like Castiel’s typical clients.

Why would a guy like this want anything to do with a hooker, let alone Cas?

Yet there he was, leaning into Castiel with that same smirk smeared across his lips.

The man let out a breathy laugh. “You don’t talk much. You aren’t anything like the other cheap hookers around here, now are you? I like that. So I have a proposition for you. Come with me to my apartment. Do your best on me, and then you can be on your merry little way. If I like you enough, I might even come back. And, mind you, this isn’t something I do often. I can have anyone I want, I never pay. But right now, I think I want you.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes, unimpressed. “Oh really, and why would I do that? I don’t even know you. This could just be a pathetic attempt to kidnap me.”

This made the man laugh harder than before. “Oh, sweetheart, believe me, if I wanted to kidnap you would already be in the trunk. As for why you should consider… I’ll give you a thousand bucks. Cash.”

Cas felt his eyes widen. He couldn’t make that kind of money in a week, let alone a night. He knew it was risky, obviously, but at this point there wasn’t much left for him anyways. If the guy decided to kill him at the end of the night, he wouldn’t object. Dean wouldn’t have to deal with him anymore, and Jake could keep all the money he had saved up in his bag.

He nodded, and got in the car.

\------------

Cas was currently standing in what could be the fanciest room he had ever seen. Okay, that was probably an exaggeration, but even the simplest of possessions seemed like a luxury to him at this point, especially when said possessions _were_ luxurious. It wasn’t an overly large space, but it was roomy. The dark wood flooring gleamed, and the room was outfitted with modern furniture.

The man locked the door before tuning to Castiel. “I’ll show you to the bedroom, angel,” he said with a wink. “Oh, and I’m Michael, by the way.”

Cas stood in shock for a moment, wondering how the man—Michael—could have possibly known he was once an angel before realizing it was a pet name. He quickly followed the man into the other room.

The second he stepped through the door Michael pushed him onto the crisp white sheets. Castiel groaned, not from pleasure, but from the sensation of laying on a soft bed for the first time as a human.

Michael straddled Cas’s waist and began unbuttoning his shirt before shucking it and his jacket off at the same time.

“You never told me your name, angel,” he said as he leaned down to kiss Castiel’s neck.

“It’s C- Clarence.” Shit. He had nearly slipped up and used his real name for a second there.

“Clarence, huh? I like that.” Michael suddenly stopped his ministrations, shifting to grab a tube from his bedside table.

Cas squinted at the container, trying to discern what it was.

Michael noticed Cas’s expression and raised his eyebrows. “What, you’ve never seen lube before?”

Castiel eyed the other man skeptically. “What is ‘lube’?”

Michael stared at him in shock for a moment before grinning. “Oh, angel, I am about to show you the time of your life.”

*****

Needless to say, Dean was not exactly having the time of his life. He had a stuck-up angel riding Sammy, Sam was still not doing so hot, and Castiel didn’t even want to see him.

All he had was his booze, at this point. He hadn’t even gotten laid since the whole fiasco with the trials. He briefly considered hitting one of the bars in town, but decided against it. He wasn’t in the mood anyways, and that fact alone was a sure sign that he wasn’t feeling like himself.

He was tired, and he was bored, and he just missed his friend, alright? He had tried to keep himself busy since the conversation with Cas, but he had already completed all the possible repairs on the Impala and had re-polished his all his weapons three times. He was running out of distractions.

He had thought about tracing Cas’s phone to figure out where he was, but that was Sam’s area, and Cas didn’t want to see him anyways.

He drowned the last of his beer and flopped back onto the bed. It was pretty late in the afternoon, around the same time he had called Cas last week.

He figured Cas would be off of work by now, assuming he had a job. He couldn’t help but wonder what the little guy was doing at the moment.

*****

Michael collapsed onto the bed beside Castiel, panting. “Jesus, that was the best ass I’ve gotten in a long time.”

“I doubt Jesus has anything to do with this situation, Michael.”

The blonde rolled his eyes and smiled. “Oh look, the guys a comedian. Really though, you’re good at your job. We’re gonna have to do this again sometime.”

Castiel nodded absentmindedly. It _had_ been a pleasant experience. He had no idea that type of activity could be so enjoyable, let alone so painless. And Michael himself was more enjoyable than most of the men he catered too. Most of them were quite violent at times, and enjoyed taking out their frustrations on him.

Michael rolled over to the side of the bed and sat up to stretch. Castiel watched the muscles in the man’s back shift, ever-intrigued by the human body. The other man stood up and began collecting Castiel’s discarded clothes from the floor before tossing them at the bed.

Cas got the message and promptly began dressing himself. While Cas dressed, Michael retrieved his wallet and pulled out a wad of cash. Castiel stopped for a moment and watched as Michael began to count out the slips of paper. He had never seen so much cash in his life.

Michael noticed and misinterpreted Cas’s stare. “I told you I was gonna pay you, Clarence. I’m a man of my word. No need to look at me like that.”

Cas quickly shook his head. “No, it’s not that, it’s just. That’s a lot of money,” he said lamely.

The other man snorted and handed Castiel the promised amount. “No shit. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m rich. I’ll have Vinny drive you back to your corner.”

Cas simply stared at the money in awe for a moment. He had honestly expected to be taken captive, killed, or at the very least kicked out without a payment. He caught Michael’s eyes. “Thank you. Really,” he said earnestly.

“Yeah, whatever. Now finish dressing then head out. Vinny should meet you at the door any minute now.”

Castiel did as he was told, and was soon in the hallway just outside Michael’s door. Soon enough a man approached him and led him to a car outside without a word.

Before Castiel knew it, he was back on his corner, still trying to process the night’s events. He decided just to head home; he didn’t feel like working, and with the money he’s just made he didn’t need to.

As he walked back towards his dumpster, the money weighed heavily in his pocket


	9. Chapter 9

Jake had thoroughly lectured Castiel for getting in a car with a complete stranger, but over all seemed pretty happy about the profits Cas had brought in. They celebrated the way they always do: by downing some pills.

The following week passed in a blur and had remained fairly uneventful. No calls from Dean, and no strange men pulling up in fancy cars. Cas had gone back to work the day after the Michael thing. There was no reason to give up an opportunity to make some more cash, even if he had made more than enough for the week.

Castiel still hadn’t seen any signs of angels or any other supernatural beings for that matter. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but he decided to be happy about it.

The weather had recently taken a turn, and the nights had been becoming steadily colder. Even with the blanket and the shelter the dumpster provided, he and Jake would need to figure something out soon.

Because of this, Cas was currently at the local thrift store, stocking up on some more blankets and warmer clothing. His socks were also in pretty bad shape, and he could do with a new pair. With the thousand dollars he had made, he was able to splurge a bit. He had picked out three new blankets, sweaters, a military jacket lined with fleece, and a pair of boots—all of which came with that weird ‘used’ smell. He was scrounging for a pack of boxers when he saw them.

It was a set of women’s lingerie containing four lace panties of assorted colors. He stared at them for a moment. They might bring him in some more tips. His clients had appreciated his eyeliner, and they might feel the same about other feminine products. He quickly shoved them into the bottom of his basket before he could change his mind, and carried on shopping as though nothing had happed. At the checkout, the cashier dutifully ignored their presence.

\-------------

Castiel was glad to say that his hypothesis had proven to be correct. It had been five days since he had started wearing the panties, and his clients had definitely noticed.

The silver car hadn’t appeared again, and Castiel was beginning to doubt he would ever see Michael again. Cas suspected that the man had simply been lying when he had complimented Castiel’s work.

Which is exactly why he was so surprised when he saw the unmistakable car round the corner on a freezing Thursday night. It pulled to a stop in front of him, and while the back door popped open nobody stepped out. Castiel took that as a sign to cautiously approach the vehicle and climb in.

Once he was seated he turned to see Michael grinning at him.

“There’s my angel. I told you I would come back.”

And with that, the car took off.

\------------

That was how Castiel once again found himself lying on his back in the middle of a rich man’s bed. Michael was mouthing at Cas’s neck, a sensation that the angel still hadn’t gotten used to. He had noticed last time that Michael seemed to enjoy when Castiel touched the man’s hair, so Castiel did just that. Michael moaned in response, and began tugging at Castiel’s shirt.

Cas obediently discarded the article of clothing onto the floor. Michael himself only had his boxers remaining, so he began working on getting Cas’s pants down. The man suddenly stopped when he caught sight of the pale blue lace spread across Castiel’s hips. Castiel could literally see Michael’s pupil’s dilating as he groaned.

“Jesus, Clarence, you’re gonna kill me.”

*****

“I swear to God, Sammy, I am going to _kill_ you.”

Dean was sitting at the table with his head in his hands, physically restraining himself from punching his brother in the face.

“Oh come on Dean, stop being so dramatic. It was for your own good.”

Dean had walked into the kitchen to find Sam dumping his last bottle of beer down the drain, the countertops littered with other empty bottles that used to hold Dean’ wide variety of alcohol.

Dean grunted. “I can take care of myself, Sammy. I’m a grown ass man.”

“Then act like one, Dean! You’ve been drinking yourself to sleep for weeks, you hardly ever come out of your room, you won’t even talk to me anymore. Tell me what’s going on, Dean.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

It was silent for so long that Dean was just beginning to hope that Sam had given up.

“Is this about Cas?”

Dean sat up and slammed his hand on the table. “Goddamn it, Sam, I said I don’t want to talk about it!”

“He’s my friend too, Dean! You won’t even tell me why he left! He’s human for God’s sake, he doesn’t know how to survive in the real world. I’m worried about him. And I’m worried about you.”

Obviously, Sam was physically incapable of letting things go. “I asked him to leave,” Dean said reluctantly.

“ _What?_ Dean what the hell?!”

“It’s not safe, Sammy. He’s got the whole heavenly host after his head, and I can’t risk them finding us and attacking the bunker.”

Sam was staring at Dean like he had grown two heads. Hell, maybe Dean had. Weirder things have happened. “ _Exactly_ , Dean! All of heaven is after the poor guy! He’s a human; he has no clue how to defend himself! He’s gonna get killed out there, and you know better than anyone that the bunker is the safest place on Earth for him at the moment! He’s _family_ , Dean. You can’t just abandon him because you’re worried about the bunker being attacked.” Sam shot him what could be his strongest bitch-face yet.

Dean dragged his hand down his face and sighed. He knew Sam was right about the whole Cas thing. He agreed with Sam, and if it weren’t for fucking Ezekiel it wouldn’t have to be this way.

Dean groaned. “Zeke,” he said curtly.

“Who—” Sam’s eyes flashed blue and his posture straightened.

“Yes, Dean?”

“How much longer? Until Sammy’s good to go?”

“I have made good work on restoring the majority of his internal organs. I estimate it should be approximately a month before he will be healthy enough to sustain his body on his own. However, it is important not to rush—”

“Alright, thanks, Zeke. That’s all I wanted to know.”

*****

The over the next three weeks Castiel’s life remained the same, except for an added routine. Michael now picked up Castiel around noon at least three times a week. This way Castiel had his nights free for his job. Michael still payed him the same amount, or sometimes even more if Castiel stayed long enough for a second round. Castiel would never be able to understand why the man would waste so much money on him, but he wasn’t about to complain.

Castiel found his time with Michael to be his second favorite way to pass the day. (His first favorite being the time he spent high on ecstasy.) When he was with Michael he had a roof over his head and a bed under his back. The other man had even begun to let Castiel use his shower (of course, Michael often ended up joining Castiel at some point, which made it somewhat difficult to actually get clean).

Meeting Michael also meant that Castiel had more than tripled his weekly profit. At this point he had more than enough cash to cover food and other necessities. With all the money he had been saving, he was considering looking into getting a cheap apartment. He would offer to let Jake move in with him, of course. He would have to work a bit more to cover the extra costs of rent and utilities, but it would be worth it. He and Jake nearly froze to death each night, despite the shelter the dumpster created and the mountain of blankets they buried themselves in.

Overall, he was doing okay. And yes, by most people’s standards his situation wouldn’t qualify as anything near okay, but he wasn’t most people. And that was okay.


	10. Chapter 10

Exactly four weeks had passed since Dean had last talked to Ezekiel. Four weeks. Just over a month. Dean had been counting the days, and now it was finally time.

Zeke’s time was up.

\---------

Dean practically burst into Sam’s room.

“Dean, what the hell—”

“Zeke!”

Sam’s eyes flashed for what Dean hoped would be the last time.

“Yes, Dean?”

“Look, man, I really really appreciate your help, but it’s time for you to go.”

\---------

Dean tapped his foot anxiously as he sat in the chair by Sammy’s bed. Ezekiel had warned him that Sam would likely lose consciousness for at least a few minutes, if not longer. Needless to say, the guy hadn’t exactly been thrilled about being asked to leave at such short notice. Dean had grudgingly offered that could return to the bunker if he had any trouble with other angels.

After another ten minutes, Sam finally began to stir from his spot on the bed. Dean perked up and watched as Sam groaned and looked around.

“Ugh, what happened?”

Dean grabbed a bottle of water form Sam’s dresser and tossed it to him. “I don’t know man, I came in here to talk to you and you passed out. Are you feeling okay?”

Sam gulped down half the bottle in one go. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

Dean shifted slightly. He hated lying to Sam, but it was necessary sometimes. “Yeah, well, you did fall down pretty hard.”

Sam sat up slightly and looked around. “How did you get me onto the bed?”

Dean grinned. “Sheer force of will alone. You need to lose some weight, Samantha.”

Dean received a glare so strong it could have set him on fire. “Shut up, jerk. What did you want to talk to me about anyways?”

Dean steeled himself and took in a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think you’re right. About the whole Cas thing. I was stupid, and I wanna try and give him a call.”

Sam tensed. He had barely talked to Dean since that conversation. “It took you a whole month to think about it, Dean? It’s been months since you kicked him out. He could be dead by now.”

“Oh, come on Sam, don’t be like that. I said I was sorry—”

“No you didn’t—”

“Well I’m saying it now, alright? I’m gonna try to fix things, and it would be nice to have my little brother on board.”

Sam sighed and deflated. “Of course I’m on board, Dean,” he said with a weak smile. “Give him a call. I’m sure he’d love to come back. If he’s still alive.”

++++++

Cas sighed as he flopped down onto his side of the dumpster. It had been another long week, and he had just gotten back from a session with Michael. He was sore, and exhausted, and really needed a joint.

He had just taken a hit when his phone rang. He was so surprised that he inhaled too fast and nearly choked to death. Somehow he managed to dig his phone out of his pocket and answer it.

“Hello?” He choked out between fits of coughs.

“Woah, man, are you alright? You aren’t sick, are you?”

Dean. Cas got himself together and cleared his throat. “I’m fine, Dean. What do you need?” Castiel throat was burning, but he forced himself to ignore the sensation.

The line was silent for a few moments and Cas was beginning to wonder if Dean had hung up.

“Look, Cas, I was an idiot. I should never have kicked you out. I- I want you to come home Cas.”

All the air rushed out of Castiel’s lungs, and for a moment he was sure his heart had stopped. “I am dreaming?” he asked idiotically. This had to be a hallucination. Jake had warned him that marijuana could cause those sometimes, but he had only taken one hit.

On the other end of the line, Dean felt a sharp pang in his chest. “No, Cas, you’re not dreaming. I miss you Cas.” Dean’s voice faltered for a moment. “Unless, I mean, if you don’t want to come back it’s fine. I- I’d understand. I’m sure you’ve got a great set up going on down there—”

It took a minute for Cas’s brain to catch up. “Dean, stop. Of course I want to go back. I’ll come home, if you’ll have me.”

“Really?” Dean’s voice sounded small, and Castiel’s heart swelled.

“Of course, Dean. I’d need a day to get there. I need to talk to some people, and it’ll take me a few hours to walk if I can’t find a ride—”

“Don’t be stupid. I’ll pick you up,” Dean said eagerly.

“Dean…”

“No, no protesting. It’s the least I could do. Where are you?”

Cas reluctantly told Dean his location, but made Dean promise not to come until that evening. Cas needed to talk to Jake. And to wash up. He probably smelled like weed, and he was fairly certain Dean wouldn’t like that.

“Okay, Cas. I’ll be there. Six o’clock on the dot. I uh, I’ll see you soon I guess.”

“See you soon, Dean.” And god, did it feel good to say that.

\---------

Cas anxiously tapped his foot as he sat with his back pressed against the jagged brick wall. It slight breeze brushed past his skin, and the sky was painted in beautiful hues as the sun made its descent past the buildings that made up the city. Castiel loved the way the sunset looked out here, but he had to admit that he wouldn’t really miss this town.

His conversation with Jake had gone fairly okay. Jake was skeptical of Dean, but fortunately he hadn’t tried to talk Cas out of leaving. Castiel knew he wouldn’t have been able to stay even if Jake asked.

He had decided to leave the vast majority of his savings with Jake, only keeping a couple hundred dollars for himself. Jake had been reluctant to accept the money due to his overly large ego but had eventually relented. Cas hoped Jake would take his advice and look into getting an apartment. Two of Cas’s blankets and his sleeping bag had also been left for Jake, and the rest of Castiel’s meager belongings were stored safely in his backpack. Jake had sent him off with a small pouch containing some ecstasy and joints, which Castiel knew he would have to hide when he got to the bunker.

His body and hair had been thoroughly scrubbed via a bathroom sink to get rid of the ever-present stench of weed. Luckily Castiel had showered at Michael’s place. After all, a wet towel and a quick scrub in a public restroom could only do so much. He had also managed to wash his old trench coat in the sink, and had donned his nicest t-shirt and jeans. (Nicest meaning they were the ones with the least holes.)

Castiel rested his head on his knees and sighed. A glance at his phone showed that it was 6:23. Maybe Jake was right, maybe Dean changed his mind and realized how useless Castiel really was. It was getting cold out, and Cas could feel the shivers racking his body. If Dean really did decide not to come, Cas would have to change into something more suitable for the weather and head to work. His heart fell at the thought of returning to servicing sleazy guys and sleeping in the dumpster again.

Cas was just about to give up hope when he heard the tell-tale sound of the Impala’s engine. The car skidded to a halt, haphazardly parking behind a small sedan. The engine stopped and a flustered looking Dean emerged from the front seat and shut the door.

Cas froze, drinking in the appearance of the man he was sure he would never see again. Dean was scanning the sidewalks, and he stopped short when he caught sight of Cas. The angel lifted his hand in an awkward excuse for a wave.

Dean’s face broke into a grin.

“Cas!”

Castiel barely had time to stand up before Dean collided with him and gathered him into his arms. Cas felt himself melting into the embrace, slightly disappointed when the other man pulled away.

“Hello, Dean.”

*****

“Shit, Cas, I’m sorry I was so late, there was traffic and then I got lost because of the stupid GPS Sammy insisted I use—”

Dean’s excuses were cut off by Castiel’s chuckle. “Dean, it’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here. I thought I would never see you again.”

And shit, there goes that awful panging in Dean’s chest again. Cas notices Dean's expression and smiles gently. “It’s okay Dean. We don’t need to talk about that right now.”

Dean nods gratefully and tries to change the subject to a happier topic. “Do you wanna do anything before we go? Maybe show me your apartment, or introduce me to some of your friends?”

Dean could have sworn he saw panic flit in and out of Cas’s eyes momentarily, but it was gone before he could tell.

“That’s alright, Dean. I’m feeling pretty tired. Can we just head to the bunker?”

Dean nodded eagerly. The little guy did look exhausted. “Sure, buddy, let’s go home. Where’s your stuff?”

Cas picked up a bag in response and Dean frowned. “That’s it?” he asked warily. Surely Cas had more things than that by now.

Cas simply nodded in response and yawned.

~~It was adorable, really.~~

Dean shifted awkwardly and cleared his throat. He had no idea where that thought came from. He was probably just tired.

“Okay then, Cas, let’s hit the road.”

\---------

The town Cas had stayed in was only about a twenty-minute drive from the bunker, and Dean filled the time updating Cas on everything that had happened since the trials. (Leaving out the parts about Ezekiel, of course.)

During the drive Dean had the chance to really take in Cas’s appearance. The dude was wearing an old faded blue t-shirt and baggy jeans and quite frankly, it was freaking Dean out. It was very rare that Cas wore anything other than his signature suit. Oh well, at least he still had his trench coat on.

Cas didn’t seem to be in the mood for talking much, and stealthily dodged all of Dean’s questions about what he had been up to. He had told Dean about how Metatron tricked him and stole his grace, at least. Other than that, he just sat there and dutifully listened to every word Dean said as he updated Cas on what had happened with the trials, asking questions occasionally.

When they finally arrived at the bunker, Dean noticed how Cas tensed up after they had parked.

Dean caught Castiel’s eyes and smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry about anything, Cas. I was stupid for, uh, what I did before. You’re here to stay, got it?”

Cas’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly and he nodded before stepping out of the car.

\-----------

Sam had been ecstatic to see Castiel, and had nearly strangled the poor guy with a bear hug. Dean eventually managed to bat him away long enough that he could show Cas his new room.

Dean and Sam had spent a few hours cleaning it up earlier that day. There had been cobwebs everywhere, and they had to wash the bedding, but other than that it was a piece of cake. Dean had chosen the room directly across from his own, so that way he’d be close by if the angel needed anything.

Cas seemed very pleased with his new space, and Dean couldn’t help but feel a little proud. The room had already had a bed, a dresser, and bedside table, so they just had to add and armchair.  Dean had also put in a small bookshelf he had found in another room a while ago. It was really simple at the moment, but Dean figured Cas would add some personal touches along the way.

“So, you like it?”

Cas turned to him, his expression flooded with gratefulness. “I love it, Dean.” He said it with such reverence that Dean almost blushed.

Almost.

“That’s good, buddy. It’s the least we could do. Oh, and uh, I found a coat rack for you. For your trench coat.” Dean vaguely pointed towards the door, unwilling to look away from the angel. He hadn’t even realized how much he had missed Cas.

Cas shifted his attention towards the coat rack and grinned. He slid of his coat as he walked over to it and hung it up. “It’s perfect.”

Without the coat on, it became clear to Dean how much weight Castiel had lost. It was obvious even through the angel’s ill-fitting clothes. The guy looked like a freaking twig. Dean wondered if maybe Castiel sometimes forgot to eat.

 _Maybe he couldn’t afford to eat_. Dean purposefully ignored that thought. Cas would have told him if it had gotten that bad. The guy just wasn’t trained on proper nutrition, that was all.

Cas turned back towards Dean and Dean forced himself to plaster on a smile. “I think I’m going to go cook up some grub. Why don’t you put on your pajamas then head out to the kitchen, okay?”

Cas tilted his head. “Pajamas?”

“Uh, yeah, pajamas. You know, comfy clothes you wear to sleep in?” Dean raised his eyebrows expectantly but Cas’s expression remained the same.

“Oh. I had always just worn whatever I had on that day.” Cas looked down at himself and frowned. “I suppose jeans are quite uncomfortable to sleep in.”

Dean stared at Castiel, and not for the first time found himself worrying about Cas’s time as a human. “Uh, alright. I guess I’ll just lend you a pair of sweatpants or something. I’ll be right back.”

Dean quickly left to fetch the pants and passed them on to Castiel before heading to the kitchen to whip something up. He and Sammy had eaten sandwiches earlier, but Dean wanted to be sure Cas had something in his stomach.

As he entered the room Sam looked up from his spot at the table. He was reading some kind of book, but he pushed it away when Dean walked in.

“So how are things going with Cas?”

Dean shook his head as he grabbed some eggs and bacon from the fridge. “Weird, man. The dude’s as skinny as a stick, so I’m making something for him right now. We need to get some meat on his bones. Oh, and guess what? He didn’t even know what pajamas were. He’s been sleeping in his jeans the whole time.”

Sam frowned. “Huh, that’s weird. He’s probably just not used to the whole human thing yet.”

Dean skillfully cracked two eggs onto the skillet and laid down some bacon next to them.

“Yeah, I guess. It’s just pretty strange. He kept dodging questions about how he’s been doing the whole ride up here.”

“Well, maybe—” Sam cut off suddenly and Dean turned to see Cas hesitantly entering the kitchen. Dean’s eyes scanned Cas over. There was just something about seeing Cas is in clothes that made him—

“Hey Cas! How are you doing?” Sam’s voice cuts through Dean’s thoughts and Dean forced himself to focus on the meal.

“I am doing well Sam, thank you.” Cas paused for a moment looking uncertain. “And how are you? I know the trials must have been difficult for you.”

Sam smiled at him. “Eh, I’ve been better. But I’m doing all right now.”

Cas looked down at his feet. “I apologize. I wish I could have been of more help—”

“Don’t worry about it Cas, I’m just glad you’re here now.”

“Alright, enough with the girly talk, guys. The food I ready.” Dean loaded up the eggs and bacon onto a plate and placed it on the table. “Come sit down Cas, you aren’t gonna stand there all night.”

Cas blushed slightly and hurried to sit down.

“Oh, hold on, I forgot to grab you a fork.” Dean quickly retrieved one and set it in front of Cas. “There you go. Now eat up before it gets cold.”

The angel eyed the fork suspiciously before picking it up. His grip on it looked awkward and Dean eyed Cas warily.

“You still haven’t gotten used to holding a fork yet?”

Cas glanced down at the utensil, looking a bit lost. “I have never needed to use one until now. I have always utilized my hands instead.”

Dean and Sam shared a look before Dean turned back to the angel.

“Well, uh, don’t worry about it Cas. You’ll get used to it eventually. Just finish eating and then you can head off to bed.”

Cas nodded gratefully, then dug in.


	11. Chapter 11

Castiel awoke feeling more refreshed than he ever had been as a human. He sat up and stretched, reveling in the sensation of feeling well rested.

He had no idea how much of a difference a pillow and mattress could make. And Dean had been right, these pants were much better to sleep in than jeans. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was seven o’clock in the morning. At this time, Jake would be heading over to the drugstore to pick up whatever pastries were on sale if it was a good day, or digging through a grocery store’s trash if it was a bad one. With all of Cas’s income, they’d had more good days than bad recently. Once Jake got back, he would usually bundle himself up in blankets and be momentarily grateful that they still hadn’t managed to freeze to death yet.

And here Castiel was in a soft bed in a warm room with a stomach sated by last night’s dinner. Cas wished he could have done more for his friend, and promised himself he would visit whenever he got a chance.

Despite Dean's reassurance, Castiel was skeptical he would be allowed to stay here long. Even if Dean was able to overlook the fact that Cas wouldn't be useful to them anymore, Castiel was certain he would find a way to mess it up eventually. He always did.

In the meantime, he figured he could go check and see if anyone was awake.

\--------

As it turned out, someone was awake. Sam was leaning against the counter, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand. Sam glanced up as Cas walked in and smiled.

“Hey, Cas. Did you sleep well?”

Cas nodded eagerly. “It was amazing to be able to sleep on a real bed.”

Sam’s eyebrows crunched together in concern and he cleared his throat. “Did you uh, did you not have a bed before?”

Castiel suddenly realized his mistake. How could he be so stupid? He would have to remember to watch what he said from now on. “No, no, I mean yes, I mean, I did have a bed. It was just… uncomfortable.” Cas winced internally. That went horribly.

“Uh- huh,” Sam said slowly, clearly not convinced.

Cas noticed he was about to say something else and quickly interrupted. “Where is Dean?”

Sam snorted in response. “Are you kidding me? Dean is never up this early. He probably won’t wake up for at least another hour or two. Anyways, I was just about to head off for my morning run. Go ahead and cook some eggs for yourself or something.”

The angel nodded as though he had any idea how to cook anything. Seemingly satisfied with this response, Sam waved before clambering up the stairs and heading out the door.

Cas hesitantly approached the fridge and looked inside. He had no idea how to cook anything. Up until this point, he had only ever eaten packaged food. He had spotted an apple on the counter earlier though, so he decided just to have that instead.

He finished the apple within minutes, and considered his options. He needed to unpack, so he decided to head back to his room and work on that.

He made quick work of folding his old blankets and stored them in a drawer, unwilling to lay them on his pristine bed without washing them first. Next up were his clothes. He didn’t have many of them to begin with, and decided to leave them in his bag until they could be washed as well.

Fifteen minutes later, Cas was satisfied with his work. His bed was made, he boots were placed neatly by the coat rack, and the pouch from Jake was stashed safely underneath his mattress.

According to Sam, it would still be a while before Dean awoke, and Cas knew exactly what he wanted to do with his time. Shower.

\--------

 By the time Cas emerged from the shower an hour later he was feeling like the cleanest man on Earth. His skin was rubbed raw and flushed bright pink. Cas decided to steal some soap from one of the various bottles in there, and was pleasantly surprised to find that he now smelled like Dean. The soap was also left his skin feeling amazing. Cas had no idea soap could react with his skin like that. The hand soap in the bathroom stalls always left him feeling itchy, and he had never even thought of stealing Michael’s soap. He also found that he enjoyed to have time to himself. His washups in the bathroom were always rushed, and Michael had almost always joined Cas in the shower, so Cas would end up occupied with… other activities.

Cas decided just to put on the same clothes as before, and once again headed out to the kitchen. He was greeted by an amazing scent wafting through the air. Cas could feel his mouth watering, and his stomach rumbled. Dean was standing and the stove, flipping something in a pan.

Cas approached him until he was just next to the other man, trying to get a better look at what he was making. He belated realize that he should probably announce his presence, and promptly did so.

“Hello Dean.”

Dean flinched, and nearly dropped the pan. “Jesus fucking Christ, Cas, what have I told you about sneaking up on people like that!”

Cas blushed and looked at the ground. “My apologies. May I ask what your making?”

“Pancakes, Cas. I’m making pancakes.” Dean still seemed tense, and Cas realized that he had forgotten about Dean’s personal space. It had never been a problem with Jake, and definitely not with Michael or his other clients, so Cas had forgotten about its importance. He quickly stepped back a bit, and Dean seemed to relax.

They were both silent for a moment Dean occupied with cooking and Cas occupied with watching Dean cook.

“So, Cas, have you learned how to cook anything yet?” Dean glanced over at him briefly before returning his focus to the pancakes.

“No. I didn’t have an oven available. Or a fridge.” Shit. Cas had forgotten that he wasn’t supposed to say things like that. He couldn’t have Dean finding out about his living conditions. He wanted Dean to be proud of him.

Dean’s face fell, and Castiel felt guilt rush through himself. He hadn’t wanted to upset Dean. “Oh. Okay. Well then uh, what did you usually eat?”

“We usually had pastries for breakfast, or sometimes fruits. Lunch usually varied from day to day, and if Jake was able to he would stop by Subway and pick up sandwiches for dinner.” What Cas didn’t tell Dean was that a lot of his meals were fished out of a dumpster in a sketchy ally behind Walmart.

Dean glanced over at him again. “Who’s Jake?”

Cas decided he could tell Dean about Jake as long as he left out the drug dealing part. “He was my roommate.”

Dean’s lips formed a frown. “You didn’t tell me you had a roommate.” Cas nearly smiled at Dean. He was practically pouting, and it was truly adorable.

“Well, I’m telling you now Dean. Can I help you set up the table?” Cas was eager to help, and if helping just so happened to distract Dean from asking question, well that was just an added bonus.

\-----

By the time Cas had finished setting up the table, Dean had finished cooking. Dean retrieved syrup from one of the cabinets and Castiel poured the coffee. It was nice, really. Domestic.

Both of them sat down at the table and Cas reached for his cup of coffee. Apparently he reached for it too soon, because the second he touched it he felt pain shoot through his fingertips.

“Ow, fuck!” Cas flapped his hand, trying to get rid of the sensation, and caught Dean staring at him. He stopped his movements and stared back at Dean. “What?” He raised an eyebrow challengingly, but this just seemed to confuse Dean more.

“Since when do you cuss?” Dean said incredulously.

Cas rolled his eyes. “Since I’ve had things to cuss about.” The look on Dean’s face made Cas grin. “Close your mouth Dean, or a fly is gonna get in it.”

Dean promptly clamped his mouth shut and stared at Cas in wonder. “You’ve changed. A lot.”

“Yeah, well, plummeting from grace will do that to you. Now eat before it gets cold.”

For once, Dean listened—albeit reluctantly.

Cas dug into his own meal. He felt slightly more confident in using the fork now, and used it to shovel the food into his mouth. The taste of the syrup exploded across Castiel’s taste buds and he moaned. “Oh my God, this is amazing,” Cas gushed.

Dean seemed to shift uncomfortably and looked down at the table. “They’re just pancakes, Cas jeez.”

“Well, they’re amazing pancakes.”

\--------

Castiel spent the rest of the day lounging around the bunker, enjoying the fact that for once he was well fed and warm. Right now he was running his fingers along the delicate spines of the books that lined the bunker's shelves. The amount of knowledge contained within their pages was incredible.

"You know, you can take a few of those for your shelf instead of just staring at them."

Cas jumped at the sound of Dean's voice, and quickly realized why the hunter always complained about being snuck up on. Dean noticed Castiel's reaction and chuckled.

"I don't think I've ever managed to scare you like that before," Dean said with a grin.

Castiel shot him a glare before before addressing Dean's earlier comment. "Are you sure? What if you need them later on?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Cas, look at how many books there are. Taking a few won't hurt anyone. I'll even help you carry them."

"Dean, I do not wish to be anymore of a burden-"

"Enough of that burden crap, Cas. We're family, and family helps each other out, alright?"

Castiel looked down and nodded, ignoring the warm sensation spreading through his chest. Dean said they were family. And even though Castiel knew that the hunter was likely lying to make him feel better, he decided to savor the comment nonetheless.

\-------

That night Castiel dreamed of his brothers and sisters falling to Earth in balls of flames as they screamed in agony. He dreamed of hellfire and demons and Sam stuck in the cage while Dean tortured damned souls on the rack. He dreamed of angels breaking into the bunker, of watching Dean die before him as the angels laughed and said he should have stayed away.

He woke with a start, sweat pouring down his heaving chest. His feet were tangled in the blankets, making him feel as though he were trapped. Dreams like these plagued him more nights than not. At least when he was with Jake he could down some pills and smoke a joint but now…

Well, actually, nothing _was_ stopping him from doing that. He had the pouch Jake had given him, and a lighter. As long as he was careful not to get caught, there was no reason why he couldn’t revert back to his old ways.

He quietly slipped out of bed and slipped on his boots. He dug his old military jacket out of his bag and retrieved the pouch from under his mattress. For some reason his heart was beating wildly, likely a combination of residual fear from the dream, adrenaline from what he was about to do, and excitement that he would be able to deal with his problems the way he preferred.

Sneaking down the hall without making any noise was slightly difficult, but he managed it. He winced as the stairs to the door creaked and paused. He heard no movement from around the bunker and assumed he was clear to make it outside.

It was really fucking cold out, and he once again wondered how Jake was faring with this weather. Cas would have prayed for him if he had any faith left.

He decided to head towards the forest that surrounded the bunker, and was pleased to find that the stars were even brighter than they had been in the city. The night air was crisp and smelled faintly or pine trees. He leaned back against a nearby tree and found himself relaxing the moment he popped the pills in his mouth.

The stars were his favorite thing to look at (other than Dean, of course), especially when he was high. He swore they looked the same as when he was still an angel—if not better. He dug out a joint and lit it, idlily watching the smoke drift up into the night sky. Not even five minutes later Cas was flying.

And he loved every second of it.


	12. Chapter 12

Over the next few days, Dean began to notice things. Things like the way Castiel would eagerly shovel down every bite of food as though he didn’t know when he would be able to eat again. Like the way Cas would spend ages in the shower and obsess over his hygiene. The way that Cas somehow managed to seem both more relaxed and more tense. The way Dean would sometimes catch Castiel staring down at his hands with an expression of remorse plastered across his face. The way he would hoard blankets in his room, but would always end up kicking them off by the end of the night because he would get too hot. The way he had chewed his fingernails anxiously when he had watched a weather report on the news the other day. The way he would sometimes tiptoe around Dean as though he feared he would once again be tossed out at the slightest mistake.

And Dean was also noticing other, much different things. Like the way Cas’s mouth scrunched up when he was thinking. Or the way Cas’s moans would sound as he dug into a particularly delicious meal. The way his eyes would crinkle when he laughed at one of Dean’s jokes. The way even though Cas had changed, he was still very much the same, just sassier. The way dimples would appear when he smiled. The way his lips would curve around the rim a bottle as he absent-mindedly ran his fingers up and down its neck.

So yeah, the past couple days had seen filled with fucking delightful observations about Cas. Dean blamed it on being cooped up in the damn bunker for so long.

Which is exactly why he burst into Cas’s room on a sunny afternoon. “Cas, get some jeans on. We’re going shopping.”

The angel glance up from the book he was reading (fucking nerd) and tilted his head. “Okay. What for?”

“For you, dumbass. You’ve been wearing the same sweatpants for days.”

Cas frowned back at him. “They’re comfortable,” he said defensively.

“Yeah well, we’ll get you some that are even comfier, okay? Now get ready, we’re leaving in ten minutes.”

\---------

Fifteen minutes later Cas clambered into the Impala.

“Took you long enough,” Dean snorted and stared the car.

Cas glared at him and Dean grinned in response. “So, got any stores in mind? Where did you used to shop for clothes?”

They pulled onto the road and Cas gazed out the window. “Goodwill.”

Dean frowned. “Oh. Well, we’ll get some better clothes today. New ones.”

Cas glanced at him and smiled. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean didn’t know why he blushed, but he did. His body was stupid. “Yeah, whatever man.”

They were both silent for a few moments, and Dean cranked up the radio, allowing the sound to drift out the open window. Cas leaned his head back against the seat, and Dean smiled at how relaxed the guy seemed.

They remained like that until Dean pulled into Lawrence a few minutes later.

“Okay, I think our safest bet is to stop at the mall, that way we can try out a few stores.”

Cas nodded stoically and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Relax, Cas, this isn’t some kind of mission or something. We go in, we get some clothes, we get out okay?”

A small amount of tension seemed to drain from Cas’s features as he nodded again. “Okay. Lets’ do this.”

\------

“Cas! Stop picking out everything with the lowest price. We live off fake credit cards, money’s not exactly a concern.”

Cas looked down sheepishly and nodded. “I apologize. Force of habit.”

Dean once again found himself worrying about how Cas had managed the last few months, but shook it off. Right now he needed to focus. “Don’t worry about it, Cas, just find something you like.”

It was a slow process, because Cas seemed determined to touch every materiel in the store, but eventually they got it done. Dean forced himself not to complain like he usually would with Sammy, and just spent the time keeping an eye on the angel. The guy didn’t seem to have a sense of style and instead just picked up everything that he thought was soft. The majority of their cart was filled with sweaters, but Cas had also thrown in some new jeans, sweatpants, and a pair of socks with freaking bees on them. But still, Dean kept his mouth shut. Barely.

Right now Cas had just finished selecting a few t-shirts, and was instead eyeing a pair of fluffy blue slippers.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Go, ahead and get them Cas.”

“Are you sure?” Cas looked hesitant, but he also looked like he really wanted those fucking slippers.

“Yeah, I’m sure Cas. Now hurry up, we still have a lot more to do.”

\------

They grabbed some sodas from the food court then set of in search of some soaps for Cas. The face they angel had made when he took a sip of his Sprite had been priceless, and had managed to set Dean off into a fit of laughter.

Cas had tried to glare at him, but the look was ruined by his puckered lips. “You didn't warn me it would be so fizzy,” he had grumbled.

That only managed to make Dean laugh harder, but eventually he had collected himself. They were walking down one of the mall’s sections when Cas suddenly stopped.

“Cas what— oh hell no.” The dude was gazing longingly into a Bath and Body Works.

“What? It smells nice,” Cas said innocently, looking at Dean with puppy dog eyes that rivaled Sam’s.

Dean ran a hand down his face and sighed. “Fine, whatever.”

The smile that lit up Cas’s face almost made it worth it. Cas insisted on smelling every damn bottle in the place, but eventually settled on one scented of Cream and Honey. He bought a matching shampoo before looking around for Dean. Dean had been leaning against a wall on the other side of the store, still keeping an eye on Cas. Cas smiled at him and held up the bottles, and Dean gave him a thumbs-up in response.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice beside him.

“You two make a cute couple.”

Dean turned to see a teenage girl looking up at him and immediately turned red when he processed what she had said. “Look—we, we’re not like—”

The girl smiled and raised her eyebrows challengingly. “Sure, whatever you say.” Then she was gone, heading over to the checkout line.

Jesus Christ, couldn’t two men walk into a Bath and Body store without everyone thinking they were gay?

Cas appeared beside him a moment later, bag in hand. “I’m ready, Dean.”

“Thank God, let’s get out of here.”

Cas gazed at him curiously. “What did that girl need?”

“Nothing, Cas.” Dean took a gulp of his soda.

“I have to admit,” Cas continued, “while I am happy to have my own soaps, I rather liked smelling like you.”

Dean nearly choked to death on his drink, and Cas wrinkled his eyebrows in concern. Jesus Christ, the dude couldn’t go around saying shit like that.

“Dean, are you alright?” Dean glanced over at Cas and nodded.

“Yeah man, I’m fine, let’s just get to the car.”

\------

For some reason, Cas had wanted to walk around the city. “It’s a nice day, Dean. I miss the outdoors.” Whatever. Anyways, they had ended up on the richer side of town, and Cas was rambling on about the decreasing bee population.

“It’s a major issue Dean. Bees provide pollination to plants essential for our survival.”

They were walking along the sidewalk next to some buildings when Dean noticed. There was some fancy suited guy in the middle of the sidewalk, just standing there, gaping at them like he had seen a ghost. _Shit._

“Uh, Cas, I think one of your angel buddies just spotted us.” Cas froze and tensed up immediately.

“Where is—” Cas’s voice cut off suddenly as he spotted the man. He smiled awkwardly and waved as Dean looked back and forth between them.

“Wait, do you know him or some—” before Dean even realized what was happening the man was striding over to them and practically tackling Cas in a hug.

“Clarence! There’s my favorite angel,” the man pulled back slightly, but didn’t let go of Cas. “I was worried about you. You haven’t been at your usual spot. Where have you been?”

Cas was blushing furiously as he glanced from Dean back to the other man. “Michael- I- I wasn’t expecting to see you. This is my friend Dean. I’ve been staying with him. I don’t need to work anymore. I’m sorry, I should have told you.”

Michael glanced at Dean as though he had just noticed him and offered him a brief smile before turning back to Cas. Who, Dean might add, was still trapped in Michael’s arms.

“Don’t worry about it angel. That’s great, and I’m just glad you’re okay,” the man bit his lip, looking torn for a moment. “Look, Clarence, I have a meeting to get to but—” he stopped and pulled a pen out of his pocket before taking Cas’s hand and scribbling something on it. “There. That’s my number. Call me, angel. I mean it. I’ve missed you.”

And with that the man threw Cas a wink before heading off.

Dean stood there in shock for a moment. “Okay, what the fuck was that?”

Cas’s skin flushed even darker and he avoided Dean’s eyes. “That was Michael. He was… a friend.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah well, did you tell all your friends you were an angel?”

“What? No, Dean, I didn’t tell anyone. Michael just, I don’t know, he calls me that.”

Oh. Something strange twisted in Dean’s gut. “Well, he seems like a real douche bag,” he sneered.

Cas’s face fell. “Please, Dean, don’t be like this. Let’s just go home, okay?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean grumbled, heading back towards the car without waiting for Cas to catch up.

The drive home was spent in silence, with Cas tense beside him, staring at that stupid number on his hand. Dean honestly wasn’t sure why he was so pissed, but he was. Something about that Michael guy was just off. He should be happy that Cas had branched out and made friends but instead…

Whatever. But Dean knew one thing for sure—he needed to head off to a bar and blow of some steam. And soon.

*******

The second they got home Dean made a bee-line for his room and slammed the door. Castiel winced. He was beginning to regret ever suggesting going on that walk, but it’s not like he could have anticipated running into Michael. In all honesty, he had completely forgotten about him. He definitely hadn’t expected Michael to be so concerned over his wellbeing. Or for Dean to have been so upset.

He absentmindedly ran his finger over the blue ink etched across his skin. It was unlikely that he would be able to see Michael again, nor was he sure if he even wanted to. He didn’t need the money anymore, so what was the point? Nevertheless, Cas reluctantly decided he would put the number in his phone. Just in case. Cas just had to be sure Dean wouldn’t notice. He didn’t want to upset him more, even if he didn’t particularly understand why Dean was so upset in the first place.

Cas sighed and ran his hand down his face. He really needed a fucking joint.


	13. Chapter 13

Castiel pushed the salad Sam had made him around the bowl, not really feeling hungry. He and Sam were sitting at the dining room table for dinner. Dean had yet to join them.

A door opened in another part of the bunker, and Cas perked up as he heard footsteps approaching.

“Hey, Dean,” Sam said with cheerfulness that had to be fake. Dean grunted in response. “Are you, uh, are you heading out?”

“Yep,” Dean said walking past them and still not looking at Cas. Dean had been ignoring Cas ever since they got back yesterday afternoon, and Cas was trying his best not to let it get to him.

He was failing.

“Oh, okay,” Sam continued. “Where are you going?”

Dean bounded up the steps. “To get laid,” he said. The sound of the front door slamming as he left echoed across the bunker.

Cas’s heart deflated as if it had been stabbed, and he internally scolded himself for being so foolish. He knew he never had a chance with Dean. He’s always known that. There was absolutely no reason for him to feel jealous or hurt.  So why did it still feel so bad?

The chair squeaked as Cas pushed himself away from the table. “I’m going to be in my room.”

Sam looked at him with pity. Castiel despised that. He was once a warrior of God; he didn’t need pity. “Don’t you want to at least finish your salad first?”

Cas stood abruptly. “I seem to have lost my appetite.”

He didn’t even remember walking from the kitchen to his room, but he ended up there nonetheless. He pressed his palms against his eyes and cursed the fact that human emotions made him so damn weak.

His hands were shaking as he pulled out the pouch and shoved two pills into his mouth. Without even thinking he dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed the number. He needed a distraction. He needed— “Michael,” he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “How soon can you pick me up?”

\------

Cas tapped his foot impatiently as he sat in the backseat of the familiar old silver car, the smooth black leather cooling his skin. Michael had sent Vinny to collect him, opting to wait for Castiel at his apartment. The pills were already beginning to take their effect, and Cas slowly relaxed against the leather seat.

He had told Sam that he would be visiting one of his friends and left as quickly as possible. He hated the way Sam looked at him like he felt bad for him or something.

The car pulled up to the building and Cas jumped out, sparing only a moment to shoot a quick thanks to Vinny. He quickly followed the familiar path to Michael’s apartment. He was barely given a moment to lock the door before a pair of strong hands pinned him against the wall.

Cas’s eyes fluttered closed as he felt Michael’s mouth latch onto his neck. “Oh angel, you are so gonna regret leaving without telling me.”

Michael suddenly hoisted Cas up so that he had no choice but to wrap his legs around Michael’s torso. The angel moaned at the friction, the pills making everything seem so much more intense. After a few moments Michael apparently became bored of just kissing and carried Cas towards the bedroom.

The other man roughly deposited Castiel onto the sheets and began stripping himself of his clothing before doing the same to the angel. He paused when he had gotten Cas’s pants off and glanced up at the angel. “Did you put these on just for me,” he asked as he gestured at the red lace panties. Cas nodded, and that’s all it took before Michael once again ravaged his mouth.

\----------

By the end of it Castiel was left sore and Michael had a smug expression on his face. “That’ll teach you not to leave me like that again.”

Cas could only nod, breathless. He had been completely unprepared for the way the pills had affected his sensitivity. Usually he only used a joint before heading to work.

Michael occupied himself by tracing patterns onto Castiel’s chest and Cas’s eyes drifted closed. “So, sex wise, how are things going between you and that Dean guy?”

Cas’s eyes shot open are he looked at Michael in shock. “ _What_?”

Michael grinned in response. “I knew it! You _do_ wanna fuck him!”

Castiel groaned. “How the hell is it so obvious to everyone?”

“Aw, don’t pout. I’m just very intuitive, that’s all.” Cas snorted in response but otherwise remained silent. “Come on, angel, give me some details, I’m dying over here,” Michael whined.

“There aren’t details. Dean is straight. In fact, he’s probably in bed with some chick he met at a bar right now. That’s it. End of the story.” Cas didn’t know why he was telling Michael this, but he blamed the stupid pills.

Michael stared at Castiel contemplatively for a few moments. “You love him, don’t you?”

Cas’s chest panged and he looked up at the ceiling, enjoying the was the pills made his vision seem to swirl. “It doesn’t matter whether or not I love him. He’ll never feel the same.”

“Well, I would say I was sorry, but for now I’m just glad your ass is still available.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Wow, thanks Michael, I feel so much better.”

“Hey, lose the sarcasm, angel. And enough chit-chat. I know better ways you could use that mouth.”

******

Dean knew he was acting like a dick. He had ignored Castiel for the whole day, and he himself wasn’t even sure what his problem was. But for some reason, ever since he’d met Cas’s friend, he couldn’t stand to look at the angel. He needed to get his shit together, and the best way to do that was through booze and women.

So that night Dean fucked some blonde country chick he met at one of the sleaziest bars in town. Her name was Sadie, or something like that. Whatever.  It was quick, and it was rough, and it was exactly what Dean needed.

Well, almost exactly what Dean needed. But whatever, he was sated—for now at least. He would talk to Cas is the morning, and things would go back to normal, just like that. Piece of cake.

Right?


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer than usual, but I didn't really want to split it into two parts. Anyways, hope you enjoy it, and good luck.

The next morning Dean woke up feeling like someone had taken a jackhammer to his head. He glanced at the clock and groaned. It was only 7:23, far too early to be awake in Dean’s book. He had drank _way_ to much whiskey last night.

He spent five minutes trying to force himself back to sleep before he begrudgingly decided he might as well get his ass up. He wanted to make something special for Cas anyways, in a lousy attempt to make up for being such a dick. Ugh.

After some struggling, he managed to get on his feet and get to the kitchen. He popped three aspirins in his mouth as he scoured the fridge. Cas had really seemed to enjoy the pancakes, so he went with those and got cooking. Six pancakes later he heard someone stumble into the kitchen and glanced up to see a sleepy looking Cas. He had those damn blue slippers on and was rubbing at his eyes. ~~Adorable~~.

“Uh, hey, Cas.” Dean cringed. His voice sounded so fake-happy, which it was, but he still didn’t want it to come of that way.

Cas looked up as if he only just noticed Dean’s presence. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were out here. I’ll come back later.” The angel turned to leave and Dean panicked.

“No! I mean, you don’t have to leave. I- I made you pancakes.” God, Dean sounded so pathetic.

Cas eyed him warily but made no move to sit at the table.

“Come on, man, I’m not gonna bite you. Sit down. The pancakes are almost done.”

Cas did as he was told, still looking slightly suspicious. Oh well, at least he hadn’t gone back to his room. Dean hurried to grab some condiments from the cupboard and set Cas’s plate in front of him.

“There. Do you want anything else? I don’t know, milk or something? Coffee?”

For the first time in the past two days Castiel smiled at him gently. “I’m fine, Dean. Thank you.”

Dean nodded, grateful that Cas seemed to understand that this was his weird way of apologizing. Maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out okay.

\---------

Dean eyed the fridge, trying to figure out what dinner would be tonight. He suddenly realized that Castiel had never gotten a chance to try his homemade burgers, and decided to go with those. Dean liked cooking. Yes, it was a little too domestic for Dean’s tastes, but he found the process to be relaxing. And now that they had their own fridge and a high-quality kitchen, Dean had been able to venture out a bit and explore different meals.

He found himself wondering if Cas would enjoy cooking. Cas had said he didn’t have the appliances to try when he first turned human, but he did now. An idea popped into Dean’s mind, and he glanced over at where the angel was sitting at the table. It had been three days since Dean’s apology dinner, and he wanted to do more to make it up to Cas. Besides, this would be a nice way to spend some time with the guy.

“Hey, Cas, do you wanna help me with dinner?”

Castiel looked skeptical. “I would love to help—it’s just, I don’t want to mess anything up.” He looked down at his hands and frowned.

“You’ll be fine, Cas. I’ll show you what to do, and if you’re still not sure about it you can just do simple things.”

This seemed to convince him, and he hesitantly approached the counter, eyeing the ingredients Dean had laid out. Dean laughed.

“Relax, Cas. How bout you work on cutting the vegetables? That’s easy enough.” Dean pushed over the lettuce, tomatoes, and other various vegetables that Sammy insisted in drowning his burgers in.

Dean quickly ran Cas through the basics of how to hold the knife and all that jazz before getting started on the rest of the meal. He tried his best to explain each step, and Castiel listened attentively while chopping away. Dean had been about to flip one of the patties when his hand slipped and he caught his wrist on the edge of the pan.

He hissed and pulled it away quickly, but he could tell that he was gonna end up with a burn. He rubbed at the spot and glanced up to see a pale-faced Castiel staring at him.

“You’re in pain.”

Dean smiled reassuringly. “I’m fine, Cas. It’s just a burn, nothing that bad. It’ll go away in a few days.”

Castiel looked down at his hands and frowned. “There was a time when I could take away your pain instantly.”

Shit. Dean didn’t know how to handle this whole Castiel-losing-his-grace situation. “ _Cas_. It’s fine. You’ve done more than enough for us at this point.”

The angel still didn’t seem convinced, but they got back to work soon enough. The burgers turned out great, and it seemed like Castiel couldn’t eat them fast enough.

Somehow Castiel had managed to convince a reluctant Dean to let him put some ointment and a freaking band-aid on the burn, but the satisfaction on his face when Dean thanked him made it worth it.

*****

Cas rubbed his temples as he tried and failed to focus on the book he was reading. It was on some lore on vampires or something. Whatever. He could already feel the headache coming on, just out of reach but agonizing nonetheless.

The morning after he had gotten back from Michael’s, things with Dean had returned to being relatively normal. Dean went back to cooking him breakfast and telling him jokes and being annoyingly concerned about Cas’s well-being. Since that night one week ago, Cas had started to help Dean around the kitchen He wasn’t really that good at it, be he was grateful to be somewhat useful for once. It would have been perfect, except for the fact that Dean still went out in search of hook ups far too often for Castiel’s tastes.

Okay, to be fair, Castiel’s tastes involved Dean never going out in search of hook ups (unless, of course, _Cas_ was the one hooking up with Dean). But, quite frankly, Cas’s tastes were far too unrealistic, so he would just have to suck it up and deal with it.

And for Castiel, ‘dealing with it’ meant sneaking out to the woods on a nearly nightly basis to get high and phoning Michael to pick him up whenever Dean went out. And it was fine. This was fine. He was getting by, albeit barely.

But whatever. The point was, Castiel wasn’t happy, but that wasn’t anything unusual at this point. At least it was better than his life on the streets had been. It was already seven pm, and Cas was sitting in the living room, discretely trying to keep an eye out to see if Dean would venture out for yet another conquest tonight. Cas didn’t even know why he did this to himself. If he just stayed in his room he would never have to know whether or not Dean out, and could live a somewhat happy life of ignorance. Yet some part of Castiel made him need to lurk around, as if just to prove to himself that he would never be Dean’s type.

Which he knew already, but whatever. For the time being, it seemed as though Castiel’s fragile heart had been spared for tonight, as Dean would have usually headed out by this time. Cas would probably head out to his spot in the forest again later anyways. He just needed to relax.

*****

Dean couldn’t fucking relax. It was one o’clock in the damn morning, and the only reason he was awake was because of some stupid ass nightmare. He knew it was just a dream. He knew that. But every part of his being was itching to go check on Sammy and Cas.

He groaned in frustration. He knew there was no way in hell that he would be able to get back to sleep without seeing for himself that they were okay. _Stupid nightmares._

He gave in and clambered out of bed, deciding to check on Sam first then swing by Cas’s room on his way back. His footsteps were nearly silent as he walked down the dimly lit corridor, once again questioning why the hell Sam chose a room so far away.

He got there eventually, and opened the door to reveal a snoring Sammy splayed across his bed. Dean allowed a small part of himself to relax. He was safe. Everything was fine. Now he just needed to check on Cas and then he could finally go back to bed.

But Cas wasn’t in his room. Dean panicked and quickly checked the bathroom and kitchen before looping back around, and there was still no sign of the angel. Shit shit shit. Okay, he just needed to calm down and focus. He scrutinized the room, looking for any clues as to where Cas might’ve gone. His blue slippers were placed neatly by his unmade bed, but his boots were gone. Wherever Cas was, it looked like he had left of his own free will. A quick glance in the dresser drawers revealed that the rest of Cas’s clothes were still neatly tucked in place, so at least the guy hadn’t up and left completely.

Dean did a quick lap around the bunker again, just in case. Still nothing. Dean could feel his heart beating wildly. If anything had happened to Cas…

No. He needed to focus, and his gut was telling him to check outside. He practically sprinted up the stairs and ran outside. The door had been unlocked, so it looked like Dean was headed in the right direction. Okay, think. Where would a former angel be hanging out in the middle of the night?

Dean had no idea. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration and scanned the tree line, and there it was. A tiny orange dot, as though someone had lit a cigarette. As he got closer he could make out the angel’s profile, leaning back against a tree with a cigarette in hand.

_Since when did Castiel smoke?_

He must have heard Dean approaching, but he didn’t even move. How stupid could Cas be? It could have been an angel or demon coming after him, and the guy wouldn’t even have been prepared.

Dean stopped just in front of where the angel was sitting. He had his eyes closed and his head tilted back, but was definitely still awake. “Cas,” Dean snapped.

A faint smile appeared on Cas’s lips. “Dean” he responded calmly. The son of a bitch hadn’t even opened his eyes. Dean suddenly realized how cold the night air was. How long had Cas been out here like this?

“Cas, man, what are you doing out here? You’re gonna freeze to death.”

The other man was silent for a few moments, and then: “Dean, have I ever told you that as an angel I could see stars exploding and fading away, even all the way from down here on Earth? It’s truly amazing. I wish I could show them to you somehow.” Cas took a drag from the cigarette before exhaling slowly, and Dean suddenly got a whiff of the smoke.

It wasn’t a cigarette. Cas was smoking _weed_ , of all things. “Cas, what the hell? Where did you get that shit?” Cas’s eyes must have opened because suddenly he was staring straight into them, dilated pupils and all. Cas simply gazed up at Dean with a stupid smile on his face.

“You remind me of a star, Dean. You’re so… so _bright_. When I was an angel, your soul was blinding—even when you were in hell. It never faded. You never faded. Can I tell you a secret, Dean? I think your much more beautiful than the stars could ever be.”

Dean felt his whole face flush red and he tried to refocus on the task at hand. “Cas! You aren’t listening to me. Where did you get that? Hell, _when_ did you get that? How long have you been taking that crap?”

The angel sighed in apparent defeat. “I always listen to you, Dean. And I have been taking this… ‘crap,’ as you call it… since approximately three days after you asked me to leave.”

Dean’s heart dropped down to his feet. “What?” How could he not have noticed? Cas had been with them for almost two weeks. Was Dean really so shitty that he didn’t even notice his best friend was using drugs? “Oh, what, so you just leave the bunker every night so you can sneak out and have a good time?” Dean’s voice came out harder than he intended it to, but Cas didn’t seem to care.

“Exactly,” he drawled. “Glad we’re on the same page now. It was pretty tiring to have to sneak around all the time.” Then he giggled. He fucking giggled.

Dean’s anger had reached its boiling point. “This isn’t fucking funny, Cas! I can’t believe you’re stupid enough to pull this shit. You should have told us! Actually, yeah, why the hell _didn’t_ you tell me?”

Cas looked up at him again and raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I knew you would react like _this_?” Cas scoffed. “It doesn’t even matter anymore. You know now. I always knew you would find out eventually.”

“This isn’t healthy for you, Ca—” Castiel’s eyes flashed and Dean was suddenly remined of how powerful he used to be.

“Tell me, Dean, is it any less healthy than drowning sorrows in alcohol? Is it any less healthy than drinking so much that you pass out? Don’t you dare try to lecture me as though I am some naive child. I have been in existence for far longer than you could even fathom.” Cas glared at him for a moment before his face broke into a grin. “Besides, this tastes much better than whiskey.”

Dean dragged his hand down his face. “Cas, just listen to me—”

“Go to bed, Dean. I’ll be fine.”

“Fine, you know what? I don’t even care anymore. Do whatever the fuck you want.” Dean marched back towards the bunker, slamming the front door behind himself. He wasn’t even sure why he was so upset, he himself had smoked pot once or twice back in high school. But this was _Cas_. Sweet, innocent, gentle Cas. And seeing him like that made him think of that fucked up vision Zachariah had given him back when the apocalypse was going on.

He could only hope that that future wasn’t coming true.


	15. Chapter 15

The second Castiel came to awareness the next morning, he wanted nothing more than to remain burrowed in the safe warmth of his blankets for all eternity.

He hadn’t wanted Dean to find out so soon. Well, frankly, he hadn’t wanted Dean to find out at all, but he had always known that was impossible. Cas idly wondered what Dean thought of him now. Probably that he was pathetic, but that honestly wasn’t far from the truth anyways. He wondered if Dean had talked to Sam already. Cas hoped not. He loved Sam, he really did, but he just couldn’t _stand_ how he looked at him with that damn pity in his eyes. He wondered if Dean would finally come to his senses and kick Cas out. Again. Not that Castiel would blame him if he did.

Cas groaned. There was no use lying in bed worrying. It was time to ‘man up’ as Dean said and face the consequences. The angel just wished he had an idea of what those consequences might entail.

\------

Fifteen minutes later Castiel timidly made his way to the kitchen. He had a blanket draped tightly across his shoulders as if could act as a shield against the inevitable conversation that would surely await him. Sam was probably still out on his morning run, but Dean was sitting at the table reading something on his phone, a cup of coffee in hand. He looked up as Cas entered the room.

“Hey, buddy.” Dean’s accompanying smile was as weak as Castiel felt.

The angel looked down at his feet and nodded in return, pulling his blanket ever tighter. “Hello, Dean.”

“Come sit down, Cas. I just wanna… talk, you know?” Dean shifted awkwardly in his seat.

As Castiel approached his eyed the plate set up for him warily. He wondered if this was common protocol to follow when kicking someone out: make them a meal, then shove them out the door. Cas scoffed to himself, and glanced up from the food to see Dean look at him questioningly. “Look, Dean, while appreciate the food, I’d honestly rather just get going now if your planning on asking me to leave again.”

“No, Cas—God dammit, nobody’s asking anyone to leave, okay? I told you before that that was a mistake. Now just sit down and eat your damn breakfast.”

Cas squinted at him, still slightly suspicious, but complied anyways. He awkwardly began pushing his scrambled eggs around the plate, anxious to get the conversation over with.

Dean took in a deep breath and Castiel steeled himself. “Cas, I wanted to apologize.”

Castiel dropped his fork, and it clattered loudly against the table. “ _What_? Why?” Maybe Dean _was_ kicking him out, and just wanted to apologize for lying.

“Because—dammit,” Dean dragged a hand down his face. “Because this is my fault. I’ve been thinking about this all night, and I should have been there for you more. To help with the whole human thing, you know? But I wasn’t, and now you’ve gone and got yourself on drugs. And I know it’s just weed, and that it’s not really a big deal, but, well, it is a big deal, Cas.  And I have no right to lecture you, because you were right about the whole alcohol thing, but just trust me- I am not a role model when it comes to dealing with emotions. I mean I drink, and I get laid, and I lash out, and I break stuff—look, my point is, that I should have been there. To like, teach you the right way to deal with stuff, but I wasn’t and I’m sorry.”

Oh. Well. Castiel certainly hadn’t been expecting that. He didn’t know what to say, so he just didn’t say anything. Instead he just sat there, like an idiot, staring at Dean. Some part of his brain pointed out that Dean might react differently if he ever found out about the pills as well, but Cas ignored it. Dean was beginning to shift around nervously, and Cas realized he needed to come up with something to say. Shit.

He opened and closed his mouth, probably looking like a complete idiot in the process, but all he managed to get out was, “Oh.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “’Oh’? That’s all you have to say?”

“Well, I don’t know, I guess I was—” Cas frowned. “I don’t know. I thought you would be… angrier. Like, way angrier.”

“What, angry enough to kick you out or something?”

“Well, yeah.” Dean’s face fell, and Castiel wanted to kick himself. “But you aren’t,” he rushed to say. “And even if you were, I wouldn’t blame you. I _don’t_ blame you, Dean. For any of this. I am capable of making my own decisions, even if they do tend to be bad ones. And while it would have been… nice... to have you for support when I first became human, I have you now, and that’s what matters.”

Dean looked down and blushed. “Thanks, Cas. Now hurry up and eat your food. I hate talking about this touchy-feely crap.”

******

That night, Dean decided that he would start paying more attention to Cas. He hadn’t really spent much time alone with the guy, mostly because he had been too busy picking up random chicks with bars. But not anymore. I mean, he would still have to go out and get laid occasionally, but even he could admit that he had been going out far more often than necessary.

Well tonight, he wanted to change that. He had already started setting everything up. The couch was loaded with blankets, there was a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, and the first Star Wars disc was in the DVD player ready to go at the click of a button. Perfect.

“Cas! Get out here!” Moments later Castiel practically slid into the living room.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” He suddenly stopped and took in the setup Dean had prepared. His eyebrows crunched together and Dean laughed.

“Nothing’s wrong, you dork. I thought we could watch a movie together. Just the two of us. I mean if you want to.”

“Just the two of us?” Cas tilted his head, seeming confused. Dean flushed red when he realized why.

“Oh my god, Cas, not like that! As friends! Jesus Christ.”

“Oh. I apologize.” Dean could have sworn the guy looked disappointed, but he must have been imagining it.

“Don’t worry about it Cas. Get comfy on the couch, and I’ll go grab some sodas.” Dean needed a second to cool down. He wasn’t sure why his body had reacted that way to the thought of going on a date with the angel, but whatever. Hormones, man.

When the movie started they had been sitting on opposite ends of the couch, but somehow Cas had ended up with his head resting on Dean’s shoulder. And Dean _definitely_ hadn’t paid any attention to how amazing Cas’s hair smelt at all. They were halfway through the second movie when Dean glanced over and saw that Cas’s eyes had fallen closed.

“Cas,” he whispered, “are you awake?” No response. Not even a twitch. Dean smiled fondly at the angel. He looked to peaceful, Dean didn’t want to wake him up.

‘ _Can I tell you a secret, Dean? I think your much more beautiful than the stars could ever be.”_

Dean shoved the thought out of his mind. Cas had been high, and probably didn’t even have any idea what he had been saying. That was all.

Dean sighed. He needed so get out of here. He carefully slid himself out from under Cas and gently pushed him back onto the couch. And if anyone were to ask, well, _he_ hadn’t been the one to drape a blanket over the angel’s body and tuck him in.


	16. Chapter 16

“Cas! I’m heading out to the bar tonight.”

Castiel felt his heart drop. It had been nearly two and a half weeks since Dean had caught him in the woods, and Dean had only gone out once. Michael had been pouty about not getting to see Cas as often, but Castiel had only felt relief. Instead Dean had spent most nights watching movies with him, which had quickly become Cas’s favorite thing to do. Cas forced himself to tune back into the conversation.

“So,” Dean continued, “I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?”

The angel stood there in shock for a moment. “Me?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yes, you. You need to get out more. You haven’t left the bunker since we went shopping.”

That was false, but Castiel felt no need to correct him. “Do I need to change clothes, or is this suitable?”

“Come on, Cas. You can’t show up in pajamas. Just throw on some jeans and a t-shirt. Oh, and you’ll probably need a jacket, too. It’s pretty cold out tonight.”

Cas sighed. “Alright, just give me a few moments.” He had no particular interest in going to a bar to watch Dean flirt with women for the majority of the night, but if that’s what Dean wanted, he would do it.

He quickly changed and threw on his military jacket, aware that his trench coat wouldn’t match his casual attire. Not that he cared how he looked or anything—he didn’t exactly have anyone to impress.

Dean was waiting for him in the Impala, and he frowned slightly when he saw Cas’s jacket. Castiel belatedly realized that he probably recognized it from that night in the woods, and even if he didn’t it reeked of weed. Luckily Dean quickly switched his focus the getting the car started and on the road.

“Dean, may we listen to some of your music,” the angel asked, hoping to distract Dean further. Dean’s face broke out into a grin.

“Of course we can!” Dean quickly turned on the radio, and soon the sound filled the car. Castiel relaxed slightly.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive at the bar Dean had in mind.

“All right, Cas. Are you ready?” At least Dean seemed enthusiastic.

“I suppose,” Castiel said reluctantly. Dean laughed.

“Come on, loosen up a little. This will be fun.”

Castiel grunted, still slightly skeptical. “If you say so.” And with that, they left the car.

\------

Castiel downed what had to be his third glass of beer and purposefully avoided looking at Dean. They had been there for less than twenty minutes, and Cas’s fears were already coming true. Dean was sitting at the booth they had chosen, chatting up some preppy blonde who was clearly dying to get into the hunter’s pants. Of course he had known that this was happening every time Dean left for a night out, but it was even more painful to actually _witness_ it. Whatever.

Cas had fled to the bar, telling Dean he was going to grab another drink. That had been over seven minutes ago, and Dean didn’t even seem to have noticed that Cas hadn’t yet returned.

Cas wished he had taken some pills before coming here. He couldn’t even call Michael to come rescue him, because that would probably piss Dean off for whatever reason. So instead the angel was stuck sitting on a barstool alone, attempting to drown his sorrows in weak alcohol.

“You look like you could use another drink.” Cas looked to his left to see a man around his age sitting on the stool next to him. “Mind if I help you out with that?”

Castiel quickly studied the man, trying to get a read on his intentions. His black hair was slicked back, his lip sported a silver ring, and he had a look on his face that Castiel recognized from his time on the job. The man was interested in him. Sexually. Castiel frowned slightly and considered his options. It was fairly obvious that Dean was gonna get laid tonight, so why couldn’t he as well? He leaned in flashed the man a smile he had perfected over the course of his job.

“I definitely wouldn’t mind you buying me a drink.”

+++++

As it turns out, Cas’s new buddy ended up buying him _two_ drinks. Castiel felt completely relaxed, soothed by the faint buzzing sensation the alcohol had left him with. The man—Julien—was actually quite pleasant to talk to. Castiel had been laughing at something he said when he felt a tug on his sleeve.

“Cas.” The angel turned around to see Dean and gave him a gummy grin.

“Dean,” he said happily, “this is my new friend Julien.” Dean spared a second to shoot Julien a not-so-friendly smile before returning his attention to Castiel.

“Yeah, that’s great Cas. Can I talk to you for a second? Outside?” Castiel frowned momentarily before glancing at the other man.

“I’ll be right back, Jules,” he said with a sly grin. This only seemed to make Dean tense up more as he grabbed the sleeve of the angel’s jacket and led him out the door.

Cold air hit Castiel’s skin and he shivered. The chill sobered Cas slightly and he found himself missing the buzz. It was already dark out, and the only source of lighting came from a bulb situated outside the entrance to the bar. “What do you need, Dean? In case you didn’t notice, I was kind of busy talking to someone. And last time I checked, you were too.” The last sentence came out bitter, but Cas didn’t care and Dean didn’t notice anyways.

“Yeah, about that Cas, I don’t think you wanna be talking to a guy like him.”

 Castiel frowned. “What? Why not?” Maybe the man was a demon or some other creature? Surely Castiel would have been able to tell if that were the case.

“Because he… he likes you, Cas. I can tell.”

Cas felt relief pour through his body and he chuckled. _That_ was the problem? “I know. That’s why I was talking to him.”

Dean growled in frustration. “No, Cas, I mean—he likes you in a different way. Like, in a non-friendly way.” Dean cringed internally. This was so awkward.

“Dean, I _know_.” Was it really that difficult for Dean to understand?

The hunter huffed. “Look, obviously you’re drunk, and you aren’t really understanding me at this point. But I know you, Cas, and I know you aren’t into guys—”

Castiel laughed incredulously. Something about this conversation was absolutely hilarious to him, but that might have just been the drinks. “Not into guys? Dean, I’m gay.”

He wasn’t sure why he said it, but he blamed the fact that he was drunk. Dean was standing absolutely still, a look of pure panic on his face. Castiel began to feel anxiety bubble up in his chest, threatening to overspill, but he made sure his face was impassive when he asked, “is that going to be a problem?”

That seemed to snap Dean out of it. “What? No, of course not,” he sputtered.

Cas felt himself relax incrementally and let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. “Good.”

They were both silent for a few moments. Dean was apparently having trouble processing this new information. He ran a hand down his face and shook his head suddenly. “Look, Cas, maybe we should just head home for the night…” Dean suddenly looked slightly ill as he reluctantly added, “I mean, unless—unless you wanna go back with the guy or something?”

The angel decided to give Dean a break and shrugged. “Not particularly.”

Dean’s entire body flooded with relief. Good. He didn’t want Cas’s first time to be with some random sleazy guy from a bar.

“What about the girl?” Castiel asked hesitantly.

Dean shrugged and waved his hand. “Eh, don’t worry about it. Let’s just get out of here.”

******

For the whole ride back, Dean was trying to make sure his internal panic _stayed_ internal. Cas was gay. Since when? Had he always been gay? Had he just figured it out? _How_ did he figure it out? They had been friends for years, and Dean had only just learned about this. Did Cas not trust him enough to tell him? On top of that, Dean’s feelings kept changing from panic to something suspiciously similar to excitement, which was just fucking weird.

Needless to say, Dean was confused. But the one thing he knew for sure was that he had _not_ been happy when he had looked up to see Cas flirting with some douche-bag. And on that note, _Cas flirting_. That had definitely never happened before, at least as far as Dean knew. When had he even learned how to? But whatever, the point was, Dean wasn’t even sure why he had gotten so upset.

Was he… jealous? No. Fuck no. That was definitely _not_ the problem. It couldn’t be. Dean was just protective, that’s all.

Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: Dean is totally jealous he's lying to himself smh


	17. Chapter 17

Ever since that night at the bar, things between Dean and Castiel had been tense. Over the last few weeks, Castiel noticed the ways Dean seemed to be pulling away from him. Dean was still friendly towards him, and they still talked the way the way they used to. But things were just… different. There were no more gentle touches from Dean on the shoulder. Dean had stopped readjusting Cas’s shirt whenever it got crooked. And whenever they made eye contact, Dean would always be the first to break it.

They still had their movie nights, at least, but even those were different. Dean no longer seemed as relaxed during them, and he would always position himself as far away from the angel as possible. Dean had also reverted back to heading out to the bar to pick up girls more often.

And it scared Cas. It terrified him, really. He made Dean uncomfortable, that much was clear. Castiel was beginning to regret ever telling Dean at all. He didn’t even want to think about how Dean might react if he knew Cas’s real feelings towards him. But it was too late now. He made a mistake, again, and now he had to deal with it.

The thing was, he just didn’t know _how_ to deal with it. After that night when Dean caught him in the woods, Castiel had stopped getting high as often as he used to. But now, with everything that had changed, he was back to using his little pouch on a nearly daily basis. And, because of Dean’s nightly exploits, Castiel also found himself at Michael’s more and more often.

Tonight was one of those nights.

Castiel was laying down with his head resting on Michael’s bare chest. They were on the bed, and the sheets were still slightly damp with sweat from their ‘activities’. And for whatever reason, Castiel found himself spilling his heart out to the other man.

“It’s just so hard, Michael. Knowing that I’m bothering Dean so much. I wish I had never told him that I was gay. I wish I never got these stupid feelings in the first place.”

Michael had been gently running his hands through the angel’s hair, but his movements stopped when Castiel finished speaking. “Hey, don’t be like that,” he said comfortingly. “You should never feel ashamed for who you’re into, and especially not for loving someone. If this Dean guy really is as great as you make him out to be, then he’ll get used to it sooner or later.”

Castiel was doubtful, but was soon distracted by curiosity tugging at his mind. “Have you ever been in love, Michael?”

“Eh, not really. I’m not that into relationships, I’m more of a no strings attached kinda guy. Hell, you’re the only hook up I’ve ever had that I’ve actually become friends with. Besides, I don’t have time for a partner anyways. I’ve got a business to run, all that stuff.”

Castiel’s eyebrows creased. “Out of all the people you have sex with, why would you chose to be friends with _me_?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you’ve got such a nice ass.”

Castiel felt his face heat up. “Michael! I’m being serious,” he protested.

Cas didn’t even need to look up to know the bastard was grinning. “So am I.”

 The angel slapped his hand against Michael’s stomach. Hard.

“ _Ow_. I was just telling the truth. No need to get all violent. Though I must say, that did kinda turn me on.”

Castiel huffed. “Everything turns you on, Michael.”

“That is true,” he conceded. “But anyways, in my opinion, you just need to talk to him, and figure out how _he_ feels about this whole situation. That’s the best way to get all this sorted out.”

******

Dean has no idea how to feel about this whole Cas situation. It shouldn’t even be a problem. It _isn’t_ a problem. Hell, Charlie is gay, and he had never had an issue with _that_. But when it came to Castiel, things were different somehow. He definitely didn’t feel any hatred or disgust towards the angel. Although, thinking of Castiel ‘with’ another man did make him mildly sick.

Whatever. He probably just needed some time to get used to the information. In the meantime, he had gone back to hooking up with chicks from bars more often. He still made sure to carve out some quality time with Castiel, but the time they spent together was more… tense, somehow. Oh well, Dean was sure he would figure out what his problem was eventually, and then everything would go back to normal.

*****

Another week had passed since Castiel had confided in Michael about his fears surrounding Dean, and things still haven’t gone back to normal. In fact, Castiel was beginning to fear that _this_ had become their new normal. And that thought terrified him. He missed the way Dean used to relax when they spent time together. Now he seemed more tense and awkward than anything.

This was exactly what Castiel had known would happen from the beginning: he had messed up. He had messed up bad enough to make Dean uncomfortable enough that he had to flee to a bar on a nearly nightly basis. The worst part was that Michael wasn’t even available for some of those nights, leaving Castiel with nothing to distract himself with but his pills.

This was exactly what had happened tonight. To make matters worse, Cas had run out of joints three days ago. Castiel had already taken two pills an hour earlier, but they weren’t affecting him like they usually did. Cas’s body had begun to build up a resistance to them. Castiel knew this was common when taking medications or drugs over long period of time, but he had just hoped it wouldn’t happen to _him_. He wanted it to be how it normally was, he wanted to fly, but instead he was stuck on the ground. And the only way to get back up was to start taking more.

Castiel wasn’t stupid, he knew the risks of increasing the dose. It was dangerous for medically approved ones, let alone illegal ones. But he _needed_ to fly. A frustrated groan escaped his lips.

He leaned his head against the rough bark from the tree behind him, knowing that at this point, he didn’t really have a choice.

 He took three more pills.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so at this part of the story shit really starts to hit the fan

When Castiel awoke in the morning, the first thing he noticed was that his neck was sore from laying at an awkward angle. The second this he noticed was that his bed was nowhere near as comfortable as it usually was. Confused, he opened his eyes to find that he was laying in dirt. Blades of grass ticked at his nose, and he panicked, fearing that he was being forced to relive waking up in a field without his grace all over again. He shot up into a sitting position almost instantly, only to lay back down as a pounding sensation shot through his head.

Groaning, he forced himself to get past the pain and look at his surroundings. _Oh_. He had fallen asleep by his spot outside the bunker. It was already bright outside, but appeared to still be in the early morning. He sat up again, slower this time, and slowly rubbed at the sore muscles in his neck.

His pouch was still clutched tightly in his left hand, and there was a beetle exploring the terrain of his jacket. He gently brushed it to the ground before standing. There was vomit on the ground near him, yet he couldn’t remember throwing up at any point. He wrinkled his nose at the smell. It was cold out, but his clothes were slightly damp from sweat. He wondered how he had managed to avoid being frozen to death during the night.

The sound of a door opening broke through his thoughts, and he looked towards the bunker to see Sam leaving for his morning run. Castiel stayed as still as possible, and luckily remained unnoticed.

Okay, this was good. If Sam was only just heading out, Dean should still be in bed. This meant that, theoretically, he should be able to sneak into the bunker without anyone ever needing to find out. He waited until Sam was well out of sight before clumsily making his way towards the bunker’s entrance. 

He closed the door behind him as quietly as possible before starting his descent down the steps. One wrong step resulted in a loud squeaking noise from the aging wood, and he winced.

“Sammy, is that you? Did you forget something?”

Castiel froze. Shit. Shit shit shit. Why the hell was Dean even awake this early?

“Sam?” Cas could hear Dean’s footsteps coming closer, but he was unable to move. How could he possibly explain this? He _couldn’t_ explain this. Shit.

Dean rounded the corner, and had barely even gotten past the doorway when he stopped.

“Cas? What are you doing? I thought you were still asleep.”

Castiel didn’t know what to say. He decided not to say anything at all. Maybe, just maybe, if he stayed still long enough, Dean would go away.

“Cas. What’s wrong with you man? Come down here.”

Just stay still.

“Cas.” There was a warning laced into Dean’s tone, and Castiel sighed. Admittedly his plan had been hopelessly unrealistic. He slowly made his way down the stairs and dragged a hand down his face. Dean was gonna kill him. Or kick him out. Castiel wasn’t sure what would be worse.

Dean was scrutinizing every in of Castiel’s body, trying to determine what the hell was going on. “Is that a fucking leaf in your hair? What the _hell_ , Cas? What, did you spend the night outside or something?”

The question was meant to be sarcastic, but Castiel gave himself away by looking at the ground in shame. He belated ran a hand through his hair, and sure enough, a small brown leaf fluttered to the floor. “It was an accident. It won’t happen again.”

Dean’s mouth dropped open. “Are you fucking kidding me? You could have frozen to death out there! What the hell were you thinking, Cas?”

“Dean, I’m sorry—”

“What’s in your hand?”

Castiel felt the blood drain from his face. The pouch. He should have put it in his pocket. He should have been smart, for once in his life, goddammit. “Dean, it’s nothing, really—”

“You’re a really shitty liar, you know that? Cut the crap, Cas. Let me see it.” Dean’s eyes were hard, and Castiel knew he wouldn’t be able to get out of this. His headache still hadn’t gone away, and all Castiel wanted to do was sit down. Instead he reluctantly handed the pouch to Dean.

Dean eyed the bag skeptically before dumping the contents into his hand. A single white pill escaped his palm and clattered to the ground, rolling about a foot before coming to a halt. Dean froze as he stared at it.

Castiel shut his eyes. This was bad. “Dean—”

The hunter interrupted him, speaking very slowly. “Castiel, you better have some amazing excuse for having those.”

Castiel just clenched his eyes tighter. “Dean, please—”

“What kind of pills are these?” Dean’s voice was so calm, so flat, and it was somehow worse to Cas than him being angry. Castiel knew he had lost, and sighed in defeat. He finally opened his eyes, but Dean was still staring at the pill.

“Ecstasy, Dean. They’re ecstasy.” Dean pursed his lips and nodded before letting out a strange, twisted laugh.

“Right. Of course they are. What else could I have expected from you?” Dean huffed, and his eyes suddenly met Cas’s. “How long, Cas?”

Castiel’s heart clenched and he winced. He found himself unable to withstand the anger in Dean’s eyes and looked away. “Since the night I left the bunker,” he admitted. “Dean, please, don’t be angry with me. I just wanted to feel like I was an angel again. I never thought you would find out, hell, at the time I never thought I would _see_ you again, Dean. I just needed an escape. Last night was a mistake, I- I messed up. I just took a few too many. On accident. But I swear Dean, it won’t happen again—”

“Damn right it won’t,” Dean growled. “I’m gonna throw these away, and then—”

Panic bubbled up in Castiel’s chest. “No, no, Dean please,” he said desperately. “Don’t do this, Dean. I _need_ them—”

“I don’t give a shit what you need, Cas! You should have told me! I can’t believe you could be stupid enough to try this shit!” Dean managed to collect himself slightly, and clenched his fist around the pills. “I need to calm down. And _you_ need to get your shit together, Cas. I mean it.”

Castiel stood there, completely still, long after Dean left. He could have been here for a few minutes or a few hours. He wasn’t sure, but he didn’t really care at this point. He was broken out of his trance by the sound of the front door opening and closing behind him. He quickly wiped the area under his eyes, and was slightly surprised when his hands came away wet.

“Cas? Are you okay? Why are you just standing there?”

The angel shook his head, trying to clear away his thoughts. “I’m fine, Sam.” Without even thinking about it, he headed back up the steps, brushing past the younger Winchester. “Michael called,” he lied robotically. “I need to see him.” And with that, he left.

******

“What do you mean he left?” Dean’s voice was hard, and Sam raised his hands defensively.

“Dean, calm down. It’s not a big deal. He does this all the time.”

Dean just stood there for a moment, trying to process this new information. “What? Since when?”

Sam just shrugged. “I don’t know, since like two weeks after he got here? He usually heads out sometime after you leave for the bar.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair. It had been over two hours since he had talked (well, argued) with the angel, and he had only just calmed down enough to leave the sanctuary of his bedroom. He knew he had been too rough on Castiel, and he wanted to try talking again now that he was more level headed.

But Castiel hadn’t been in his room. Or his spot outside. Dean ended up practically running into Sam in the hallway, and had asked in a panic if he knew where Cas was, and that was how they ended up here.

“Well do you know where he’s been going?” Dean swore to god, if Castiel had gone out to get more pills…

“He’s been visiting some of the friends he made when he was human. Michael, or something like that.”

Dean’s mind was racing as he tried to figure out why that name sounded familiar (other than the whole archangel thing). Suddenly it clicked. “Wait, _Michael_?”

Sam stared at him and squinted. “Uh, yeah. Have you met him or something?”

“We ran into him once. That day I took Cas shopping. The guy seems like a dick.” Dean hadn’t even known Cas had talked to the man again. Dean wondered why Castiel hadn’t told him, but guiltily realized it was probably because he was afraid Dean would get mad. Goddammit. What else was the angel keeping from him out of fear?

“Look, Dean, I really don’t see what the big deal is. It’s good that he has friends that are, you know, normal.”

A headache was beginning to form in the back of Dean’s head, and he rubbed his temples. “Sammy, it’s not that. It’s- Cas has been doing drugs.”

If the situation wasn’t so serious, Dean might have found the look on Sam’s face hilarious. “ _What_? Are you sure?”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, I’m pretty fucking sure, Sam. I caught him smoking a fucking joint a while ago, but I thought he was over that stuff. I mean, I talked to him and he seemed fine. But this morning- he came in and he just- I found out he was on ecstasy, Sam. The dude had fallen asleep outside last night because he took to many pills ‘on accident’ or some shit. I mean, how do you accidently take pills?”

Sam let out a long breath. “Wow. I mean—I don’t know what to say. I guess he took the whole human thing a lot harder than we thought.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Dean shook his head for a moment before running a hand through his hair. “I should call him. I didn’t handle the situation this morning very well.”

Sam placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Don’t worry too much, Dean. He’ll get through this. Maybe just give him some space for a bit?”

Dean sighed. He knew Sam was right, he could call Cas later. He could wait.

\--------

Dean couldn’t fucking wait any longer. Five more hours had passed. It was already almost three o’clock, and Cas _still_ hadn’t come back.

He had spent the majority of the day pacing back and forth. He was worried, okay? For all he knew, Cas could be doing drugs right now with that Michael guy. Granted, from what Dean had seen Michael didn’t look like the type of guy to do that kind of thing, but then again, neither had Castiel.

Dean pulled out his phone for what must have been the hundredth time. He knew he had promised Sam to give Cas some space, but at this point the angel should have more than enough. He speed dialed the angels number, and clicked send.

******

Castiel groaned and rolled his eyes as his stupid phone rang for the third time in a row. Michael briefly glanced up at the angel and raised his eyebrows before returning his attention to sucking a trail down Cas’s chest. Castiel stubbornly ignored the shrill ringing.

Michael sighed after a few moments and reluctantly sat up. “Come on angel, he’s probably worried about you. You should let him know you’re okay.”

Cas squinted at him. “Since when are you an advocate for anything that involves interrupting sex?”

“Exactly! If _I’m_ encouraging you to do it, then it should be obvious that it’s important.”

Castiel rolled his eyes again before begrudgingly rolling over and snagging his phone off the bedside table. As expected, the caller ID listed Dean’s number. Cas was honestly surprised that Dean hadn’t started calling hours ago, but it didn’t really matter now. He flopped back down into his previous position on the bed and pressed the phone up to his ear.

“What do you want, Dean?”

“Cas! Listen to me, man, you need to come home.” Dean’s voice was some mix between relief and anger, a combination that Castiel hadn’t even known was possible.

“Dean, I’m kind of busy right now.” Castiel glanced down at Michael, who had returned to his task of covering every inch of Cas’s chest with his mouth.

Dean began to protest, but Cas cut him off. “Look, Dean, are you hurt?”

“Well, no but—”

“Is Sam hurt?”

“No, Cas, we’re—”

“Are either of you in any form of immediate danger?”

Cas heard Dean growl in frustration. “Cas, no—”

“Then I see no reason for me to return at this exact moment. I’m _fine_ , Dean. I’ll go back eventually.” And with that Castiel hung up, put his phone on silent, and tossed in back onto the table.

Michael grinned up at him. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Shut up,” Castiel grumbled. “Now can you finally get back to what you were doing?”

“Happy to oblige, angel.”


	19. Chapter 19

Castiel glanced at the time on his phone and sighed. There were nine missed call from Dean, and he didn’t even want to look at the text messages. It was seven o’clock in the evening and he knew he would have to head out soon.

He had no desire to return to the bunker. He was almost certain he would be booted out as soon as he stepped through the door. Hell, that was if he was even _allowed_ through the door. Either way, he was in big trouble. Not only for the pills, but probably for refusing to obey Dean’s order that he come back.

Michael seemed to notice Castiel’s inner turmoil, because he gently began carding his finger through the angel’s hair. The other man was sitting up with his back against the headboard, and Cas was laying on his stomach next to him.

“You don’t have to go back yet, angel,” Michael said softly.

Cas shook his head. “I’ll have to face them eventually, Michael. Besides, I’ve been here all day. I’m surprised you haven’t tired of me yet.”

Michael raised his eyebrows. “Who says I haven’t?”

“Assbutt,” Castiel scoffed. He reluctantly began to get up but Michael grabbed his arm and pulled him back down so that Cas was now straddling his waist.

“Come on, angel, just stay for one more round,” he whined.

Cas rolled his eyes. “Michael, we’ve been having sex all day. I don’t even think it’s physically possible for a human to have as much sex as you do.”

“What can I say? I’m an active guy.” Michael began mouthing at his neck and Castiel closed his eyes. “Just stay here a bit longer. I like having you around.”

Castiel gave in. What was a few more hours, anyway? Dean was gonna kick him out regardless. Maybe, if he got back later, Dean would be asleep and he could enjoy spending one more night on a mattress. “You know,” Cas mused, “If things go the way I think they’re gonna go, I’ll have to get my old job back. Then you can see me whenever you like.”

******

Dean sat in a chair facing the bunker door. The bunker was dark, and the only source of light came from a single lamp. He had been there for the last three hours, and he was trying not to feel like a parent waiting to catch their kid coming home past curfew. There was a brand-new bottle of whiskey on the table next to him, as the beer he had already drunk just wasn’t cutting it. Sammy had given up and gone to bed over an hour ago. He was less concerned than Dean about this whole situation.

It was nearly nine o’clock when he heard the bunker door creak open. Dean had been somewhat tempted to leave it locked, but had worried that that would just make Cas turn back and leave again. Castiel began to descend the stairs and Dean stood up.

“Where the hell have you been?”

Dean saw Castiel pause for a moment as he sighed in apparent disappointment. “You’re still awake.”

Dean’s temper began to flare up, but he forced himself to calm down. The last thing he wanted was a repeat of this morning. “Of fucking course I’m still awake, Cas. I was worried about you.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be,” Cas snapped. “I can take care of myself.” The angel walked past Dean and started heading to his room, but Dean quickly followed after him.

“Cas, wait. We need to talk about this. Just tell me where you’ve been.”

“No, actually, we _don’t_ need to talk about it. And if you really must know, I’ve been with Michael. You know, my _friend_? Or am I not allowed to have those, either?”

“Cas—” Castiel had reached his destination and slammed the door behind himself.

Oh fuck no. There was no way Cas was getting out of this that easily. Dean opened the door, but the second he entered the room he froze.

Castiel had been in the process of taking off his shirt, and there were hickeys all. Over. His chest. What the actual fuck. Dean felt unwarranted disappointment rushing through him, but quickly replaced with anger.

“Some _friend_ Michael is,” he sneered.

Cas noticed him and yanked his shirt back on. “What are you doing in here, Dean?” Cas’s angry voice was undermined by the blush that spread across his cheeks. Dean’s heart was being weird.

“So, do you do that kind of thing with all your ‘friends’?”

Castiel’s expression hardened and he fixed Dean with a glare. “Leave it alone, Dean.”

 _Leave it alone?!_ How the hell did he expect Dean to do that? “No, Cas. I can’t believe you right now—”

“Why are you so angry, Dean? You sleep around all the time.”

The truth was, even _Dean_ didn’t know why he was upset. But there was no way he was about to admit that. “Because I know better than you do! I have enough experience to tell when someone is stringing me along—”

Castiel snorted and shook his head, a sarcastic smile plastered across his face. “Believe me, Michael is _not_ stringing me along.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh really? Because trust me, I can tell just by looking at him that he’s not the type of guy interested in settling down. He’s probably already cheated on you—”

A cruel laugh escaped Cas’s lips. “Cheated on me? Oh please. I’m well aware of the fact that he sleeps with other people, the same way he was aware that I used to too—” Castiel cuts off suddenly and his eyes widen in panic as he realizes what he just said.

“What?” Deans voice comes out as a breath. He didn’t understand why his chest hurt so badly. But it did. He was hurt, and he was angry, and he was confused, and he knew he was about one second away from saying something he’d probably regret but he couldn’t help he couldn’t think and he just-

“Dean—” That was all it took for Dean to break.

“Oh, what, so you thought that since you were suddenly human you could act like a whore?”

Castiel recoils as if he had been hit, and the pure hurt etched across his face made Dean’s anger falter. Cas suddenly straightens his posture and his expression robotically, no trace of emotion left at all. “Get out.” His voice is completely flat, and it nearly kills Dean to hear it.

“Cas, wait I—”

“I said get out, Dean. Now.” Dean didn’t budge and Cas’s eyes flashed. “Leave!”

Dean jumped at the sudden anger in the angel’s voice. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” Dean made a hasty exit and fled to the safety of his room. Once there, he leaned back against his door and ran a hand through his hair.

Fuck. He knew he had fucked up. He had no right to say that shit to Cas, especially considering the fact that Dean slept around way more. He didn’t know why he had reacted like that. But of course, his fucking idiot self just had to go and be an asshole to his best friend. Dean felt the familiar sensation of self-hatred flooding through his body. He always had to fuck everything up. He had failed Cas. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t let Zachariah’s future come true.

But it had. Slowly but surely, Castiel was turning into the shattered shell of a man that Dean had met all those years ago.

And Dean had no idea how to stop it. Dean sighed and staggered over to his bed, collapsing onto the soft foam. He was exhausted. This whole day had been a fucking rollercoaster. He was trying his best not to think about those fucking hickies. No wonder Dean had gotten a bad feeling the first time he met Michael, he could tell the guy just wanted to get in Cas’s pants. And apparently he succeeded. The thought left a sour feeling in Dean’s gut.

Dean didn’t even know that Cas had had sex before. He thought the little guy was still a virgin, but apparently he had been getting more than enough action, both from Michael and from whoever else. How many people had Cas had sex with? Did they treat him right? Was it special? Did Cas do the pitching or the receiving?

Dean shook his head. He really needed to stop thinking about Cas having sex. That was just fucking weird.

He just needed a break. The best course of action right now was probably to take a quick nap, then go talk to Cas and apologize for being a dick. The less tired he was, the less moody he would be.

Within five minutes, Dean had drifted off into a fitful sleep, fighting off images of Castiel with faceless guys.

\---------

Dean groaned as he drifted back into wakefulness and dragged a hand down his face. The day’s events came rushing back to him and shot up. _Cas_.

A glance at the clock revealed that almost three hours had passed. Shit. Castiel was probably asleep by now. Regardless, Dean forced himself to escape the tangled covers. A moment later he had successfully managed to arrive in front of Castiel’s door without making too much noise.

“Cas? Are you awake, man?”

No reply. Dean leaned his head against the door and sighed. Okay, so either Cas was ignoring him, or he really was asleep.

A sense of unease was tugging at Dean’s gut, urging him to open the door. Dean frowned. After some debating, he figured it would be okay to peek inside, just to be sure Cas was okay.

He slowly turned the knob, and with a small push the door clicked open. Despite the darkness, Dean could tell that Castiel wasn’t in the bed. And somehow, before he even opened every drawer in a state of panic only to find them empty, some part of him already knew that Cas was gone.


	20. Chapter 20

Dean drummed his fingers on the table impatiently. “Well? Anything yet?”

Sam shot him a bitch face. “I literally just started Dean. It’s nearly one in the morning and you’re being all distracting by fidgeting, so excuse me if it’s taking a while.”

“Hey, this was your idea—”

“Yeah, because I’m the only one who seems to be thinking clearly! You can’t just head off in the middle of the night with no idea where to look and expect to find Cas that way! Just give me a minute to trace his phone, and then you can go.”

Dean groaned in frustration and dropped his head into his hands. This was all his fault. If he didn’t have to be such a dick all the time, none of this would have happened. He couldn’t believe Cas had left. Well, okay, actually he could believe that, but still. The guy had even snagged Dean’s brand new bottle of whiskey. Dean would have been pissed, if he wasn’t so damn worried.

As soon as Dean saw that Cas’s drawers were empty he had sprinted to Sam’s room and woken his brother up. Sam had somehow managed to convince Dean to slow down and let him trace Cas’s phone on the computer instead of heading out immediately like Dean had wanted to.

“Okay, I think I’ve got something.”

Dean’s head snapped up. “What? Really? Where?”

Sam squinted at the screen and tapped a few buttons.

“Uh, it looks like he didn’t get that far. He’s just outside a nearby city. Ebson. It’s pretty close by.” Sam pushed his laptop away and rubbed his eyes.

“Shit, I should have known. That was the same city he stayed in before,” Dean’s mind was going a mile a minute, eager to get on the road and get to Cas.

Sam looked relieved. “That’s great! Didn’t you say he had a roommate?” Dean nodded and Sam ginned. “There, see? He has a place to stay. You were worried for nothing, I bet he’s already nice and cozy in his old apartment.”

Dean relaxed slightly. Sam was probably right, he was sure Cas was fine. Hell, the little guy might already be asleep by now. Now Dean just had to get over there quick and beg for forgiveness. Piece of cake.

*******

Castiel swayed unsteadily on his feet, nearly faceplanting into the dirt. He was getting close to the city. At least, he was pretty sure he was. It was really, really dark, and he was having trouble thinking straight, but those were definitely buildings ahead down the hill.

He just hoped it was the _right_ city. It looked like it, but at one point during the night Cas had realized that he had started walking back towards the bunker and had to turn around again.

Ugh. He had underestimated how much harder walking would be when under the influence of alcohol. Oh well. He took another swig anyways. The bottle of whiskey had been right there on the table. Can you believe it? Almost as though God himself were telling Castiel he should take it. So he did.

Honestly, he much preferred his pills, but those weren’t exactly at his disposal currently. At least there was one extra benefit: Cas should be frozen by now, but instead he felt pleasantly warm. Either way, his primary goal was to get to Jake, get some pills, and get as high as possible. From there… well, he didn’t particularly care at this point. He supposed he would probably go back to his old life of working the streets and trying to forget about Dean.

 _Dean_. No. No, he couldn’t afford to think about Dean anymore. The hunter had made his thoughts about Cas quite clear, so Castiel decided to do the man a favor and spare him the trouble of kicking Cas out himself. It would be easier for Dean this way. No awkward conversation, no residual guilt or pity.

Cas snorted. Even with his heart broken, he was still looking out for Dean. When he was with him, all rational thought was lost. There was only _Dean_. Dean’s smile, Dean’s laugh, the forest confined in his brilliant green eyes, the galaxy of freckles brushed across his nose—

Castiel suddenly lost his footing and tripped, tumbling down the hill for a moment. As soon as he stopped he made sure to keep his whiskey from spilling more. Every drop was precious to him, and he had already spilled more than a bit across the ground and himself.

Once that was taken care of he assessed the damage. His ankle hurt like a bitch, and he was pretty sure his backpack had ripped. There he goes, messing shit up again. With some struggling, he managed to stand up and shake himself off, wiping away the sweat dripping down his forehead. But when he brought his hand back down, it came away red. Strange. He must have hit his head on a rock.

Cas simply shrugged and continued on. Pain was nothing a couple of pills couldn’t fix. He knew that from experience.

*******

Okay, so maybe this wouldn’t be as easy as Dean had thought. Phone tracing couldn’t pinpoint exact locations, only a wide radius. He had no idea which of these buildings Cas could be in.

He decided to start at where he had picked Cas up last time. Unfortunately, the building Cas had sat by wasn’t an apartment complex like Dean had hoped; it was just old and abandoned. To make matters worse, it was becoming apparent to Dean that this was the bad side of town. If this really was where Cas was at, it couldn’t be safe, especially if the guy was drunk.

Unwilling to waste anymore time, Dean jumped back into the Impala. It was cold as fuck, but he left his windows open, the chill keeping him awake. He was slowly driving down a sketchy looking street when he heard yelling.

“Are you fucking kidding me? There’s no way you’re taking pills in this condition!”

Dean slammed on the brakes. Pills. Cas took pills. It was a stretch to assume that whoever that guy was talking to was Cas, but Dean had to hope. He quickly pulled his car to the side and hastily parked it before jumping out.

“Jake, _please._ I need them! I- I have some money left, I can pay you—” Dean froze for a moment. The voice was slurred and desperate, but it definitely belonged to Castiel. He picked up his pace, heading in the direction of the sound.

“This isn’t about fucking money, Clarence. You’ve drank nearly half a bottle of whiskey already, taking anything else could kill you!”

“I don’t care!” Dean froze at the shout, a chill running down his spine, before once again rushing forward. “I don’t care anymore, Jake. I’m useless! Nobody wants me! I just want it to end.”

Dean reached the alleyway just as Cas finished talking. It was dark out, but Dean could see Cas sitting against the brick wall, the bottle of whiskey gleaming in the moonlight beside him. There was some other guy—Jake, Cas had called him—who was standing in front of Castiel with his arms crossed.

“Don’t be stupid, Clarence. I’m not about to stand by and watch you kill yourself, for God’s sake—”

“Why the hell not—”

The man shook his head and turned slightly, suddenly noticing Dean standing at the mouth of the alley. “Who the fuck are you?” His voice was angry, but Dean was only focused on the angel. Castiel looked up, curious about who Jake was talking to, and froze with a look of shock on his face.

“Dean,” he said breathlessly. Jake, who had glanced at Castiel, immediately turned back to Dean.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he groaned. “I don’t have time for this shit.” Jake fixed Dean with a glare for a moment before addressing Cas. “Look, Clarence, I have to go. I was supposed to leave like five minutes ago. Sort yourself out and get your shit together. I’m fine with you crashing here again but I’ve got to go, alright?”

He quickly brushed past Dean, telling him not to “fuck Cas up even more” as he left.

Dean just stood there, like an idiot, unsure what to do. Castiel scoffed and looked away, taking another swig from the bottle.

“What do you want, Dean?” Cas just sounded so _tired._ He went to drag a hand through his hair, but winced when he touched his head.

Dean instantly switched into mother-hen mode. “Are you hurt?” Cas didn’t respond and Dean rushed to his side, crouching down next to him. “Cas, you’re bleeding! What happened?” Dean ripped a piece of flannel of his shirt and gently pressed it to the wound, but Castiel clumsily pulled away.

“I’m _fine_ , Dean. Why are you here?”

“No, Cas, you’re not fine. Did you fall? You could have a concussion—”

“ _Dean_!” The hunter sighed and gave up. He could fix Cas up once they got back to the bunker.

“I’m here because—I just, I’m sorry, okay? I’m so so sorry, Cas, I overreacted and messed up and then I went back to your room to apologize but you were _gone_. You left me, Cas.” Dean hadn’t meant to let that last part slip out but it did anyways.

“I thought I would spare you the trouble of kicking me out,” Cas slurred.

“No no no, Cas, I would never kick you out. Ever. Last time was a mistake and I swear it will _never_ happen again.” Dean’s voice was desperate, pleading for him to understand, but Castiel didn’t seem convinced.

Dean sighed and slumped into a sitting position next to Cas, grimacing as his hand came on contact with the grimy floor. For the first time, Dean really focused on their surroundings. By the wall across from them was a dumpster that had been turned on his side to form some semblance of shelter, a layer of blankets spread across it’s floor. _Jake_. That was what Cas said his roommate’s name was. But surely, _surely_ , this wasn’t where Cas had lived. It couldn’t be. Maybe Jake had fallen on hard times and lost their apartment. Maybe this wasn’t even the same Jake.

But Jake had told Cas he could stay here _again,_ implying that this was where Castiel had stayed before. Dread built up in Dean’s heart. “Cas,” he started, but his voice cracked and he had to try again. “Cas, is this—I mean, this isn’t where you used to live, right?” Dean stared hard at Castiel’s face, praying he would scoff and say ‘of course not, Dean.’ But he didn’t. He didn’t say anything at all, and it was tearing Dean apart.

“ _Cas,”_ he pressed, and the angel snapped.

“ _What_ , Dean? Is this what you wanted? To come all the way here just to laugh at how far I’ve fallen?”

Dean was sure that his heart dropped out of his chest. “What? Cas, no, just,” Dean growled in frustration as his eyes began to sting. “ _Cas_ , I would never—I need you to come home, Cas. _Plea_ s _e._ I need you. We can figure all of this stuff out later, but please just come with me for now. And if—” Dean’s voice cracked again but he pressed on. “If you really don’t want to stay with us anymore, you can leave. It will hurt, but I’ll deal with it, if it’s what you really want. But for tonight, just come back to the bunker, okay?”

Castiel’s expression softened and he closed his eyes. A faint smile etched across his lips as he said, “Okay, Dean. Let’s go home.”

\---------

Castiel was stumbling so badly that Dean had to help lead him to the car. Once inside, Dean breathed a sigh of relief. That Jake guy seemed to care about Cas, so Dean didn’t want to just take Castiel back with no explanation.

“Cas, does Jake have access to a phone or something?”

Castiel nodded in response. Dean dug out an old napkin and a pen and scribbled his number on it, along with a brief explanation that he was taking Cas home.

“Okay Cas, I’m gonna go put this over by Jake’s stuff so he can call you if he needs.”

Cas just nodded again, staring out the window. He still had the whiskey clutched tightly in his hands, and Dean gently tried to pry the bottle away from him.

“Dean, no,” Cas whined.

Dean caught his eyes and gave him a stern look. “Cas, you’ve had way too much to drink. You’re gonna make yourself sick. Well, more sick.”

Castiel reluctantly relented, a pout on his lips. Not that Dean was looking at his lips, just—whatever. Dean grabbed the bottle and the napkin before quickly jogging back to the alley. He set the napkin inside the dumpster and tossed the bottle into a trash can on his way back.

By the time he got back in the car Cas was already asleep, snoring softly. Dean felt a fond smile tugging at his lips. He couldn’t believe he had almost lost Cas. More importantly, he couldn’t believe that Cas had been _homeless_.

Why hadn’t he told Dean? He had to have known that Dean would have helped, right? Doubt began to creep into Deans mind, because really, he had given Cas no indication that he _would_ have helped. The second newly-human Castiel arrived at the bunker Dean had booted him to the curb. He wondered what Castiel must have thought. Cas had told Jake that he was worthless, that no one cared. Did he really think that? Had Dean really fucked up that badly?

Cas must have assumed that Dean didn’t want him without his powers, but that was wrong wrong wrong on so many levels. Dean felt like his heart had been punched. No wonder Castiel had been so skinny. No wonder he had hoarded all the blankets. Dean should have noticed, dammit. How could he not seen the signs? Dean himself was all too familiar with the signs. Sure, he and Sammy never exactly been truly homeless, but they had grown up without a home. There had been months when money got too tight and Dean had to steal meals to get by.

There was no way Castiel would steal, Dean was sure of that. He must have had to dumpster dive. The thought nearly made Dean physically ill, and he had to distract himself by getting the car on the road.

He would do everything he could to make sure Castiel would _never_ have to go without a bed again. He would make sure Castiel knew how much he was needed, how much he was _wanted_. He would make sure to treat Cas better.

He would do all of these things, but first, he just needed to get Cas home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I know I usually update like once a day but I'm starting some college courses (ugh) so the updates might happen a little less often? Idk I'll try to update as often as I can. If at any point I go like a week without updating pls yell at me.  
> Also I kinda feel like this is going a bit to fast? Like most of the Important Conversations are happening within days of each other, but the way I imagined it was like all the big shit would go down at once.  
> Anyways thanks for reading and good luck!


	21. Chapter 21

“Cas? Cas, wake up. We’re here.”

Castiel groaned and squeezed his eyes shut tighter. The alcohol was beginning to wear off and there was an extremely unpleasant sensation in his head.

“Come on, Cas. Let’s go.”

With no small amount of effort, Castiel managed to sit up from his slumped over position and open his eyes. Everything was kind of fuzzy, but he was able to discern that he was in the Impala with Dean. _Dean_. That’s right. Dean had found him and picked him up. Cas frowned. Why would Dean go through all this trouble for him? He had thought Dean hated him.

Wait, Dean was gone now, and the air was suddenly much colder. Oh. Dean had gotten out and opened the door by Castiel’s side. Dean leaned down and Castiel could suddenly see his eyes again. God, Cas loved those eyes.

“—and then you can go to bed, okay?”

Oops. Dean must have been talking to him, but he hadn’t been paying attention. He nodded anyways. Dean helped him clamber out of the car and Castiel swayed unsteadily on his feet.

“Woah there. Jesus, Cas, this is why you shouldn’t drink so much. You can hardly walk. Let’s just get you inside and get you cleaned up.”

Castiel had to agree with him. He hadn’t anticipated how the alcohol would affect him. When he was an angel he had drank a whole liquor store, and now he couldn’t even stand half a bottle of whiskey. How pathetic.

Dean was slowly leading him towards the bunker, supporting a fair amount of Castiel’s weight. To be honest, Cas still wasn’t entirely sure why Dean was helping him, why Dean was even allowing him back to the bunker at all. But for now, he decided just to enjoy it. After all, he didn’t know how long it would be before Dean comes to his senses and makes him leave again.

*****

Dean was never fucking making Cas leave again. The guy was a fucking mess. He was shivering, and he was injured, and he was beyond drunk, and it was all Dean’s fucking fault.

The second they had got in the bunker Castiel had made a beeline for the bathroom and promptly threw up, which was a good thing. Even if it was unpleasant, he needed to get the alcohol out of his system. Afterwards Dean had had Cas sit down at the dining table so he could check his injuries. The laceration wasn’t that bad and therefore wouldn’t need stitches, but the guy would have a killer headache tomorrow. Castiel seemed to have sobered up a bit, and was wrapped up in one of his favorite blankets. Dean had been crouching down next to him and disinfecting the cut on his head when Cas spoke up.

“Why are you doing this, Dean? Why are you helping me?” His speech was still slurred slightly, but it had definitely improved.

The hunter glanced up, but Cas was just staring at his hands.

“What do you mean? You’re family, of course I’m going to help you.” Castiel looked up at that and gave him a gentle, sad smile.

“It’s okay, Dean. You don’t have to lie to me. I know how you feel about me. I—” Cas cleared his throat and looked away again. “I make you uncomfortable. I am well aware of the fact that I am only allowed to seek refuge here out of some misplaced sense of pity—”

Dean felt his heart drop. Was that really how Cas felt? “No no no, Cas, I love—I love having you around. How could you even think that?”

“Because I’m useless, Dean! I’m useless. There is absolutely no reason for you and your brother to allow me into your home. I have caused both of you unforgiveable amounts of pain. I am such a nuisance to you that you feel the need to flee to the bar almost every night. And earlier tonight—” Castiel broke off, shaking his head with a watery smile. “Well, you made your thoughts about me quite clear.”

 Guilt rushed through Dean’s body. God fucking dammit. How could he have screwed up this badly? He hadn’t even though about how his actions would come across to Castiel, he just wasn’t thinking. He never thinks. “Cas, please listen to me. I never should have said those things to you, I was way out of line and—”

“But you were right.”

Dean grabbed Cas’s hands tightly, trying to make sure he understood. “No. I wasn’t. Having sex doesn’t make you a whore, Cas.”

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “I know that. But selling yourself does.”

“What?” Dean’s eyebrows scrunched together. “What are you talking about?”

Cas stood up suddenly, nearly causing Dean to fall over backwards. “I’m tired, Dean. May I go to my bed?”

“Uh, yeah, of course. But Cas, what—”

“Goodnight, Dean.” Then Cas was gone.

Dean just stayed there, crouched next to the now vacant chair, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. Had Cas been implying—no, that wasn’t it. Dean ran a hand through his hair and pushed the thought away. He would ask Cas about it in the morning, but for now he really needed some fucking rest.

*****

Castiel woke up and immediately regretted everything that had happened yesterday. His head was causing him excruciating pain, his body felt like it had been hit by a truck, and he was plagued by a feeling of shame when he realized how pathetic he must have looked to Dean last night.

At some point during the night he had ended up rushing into the bathroom and throwing up again, so at least that was taken care of. Ugh. He was never drinking again. He had no idea how Dean- or anyone for that matter- could do this for fun.

“Well finally you’re awake.”

He rubbed at his eyes and sat up slightly, glancing around the room. Dean was sitting in a chair by his bed smiling and holding out a glass of water and some aspirins, both of which Castiel took gratefully.

“What time is it,” he asked with a yawn. Dean took the empty glass back and set it on the bedside table.

“Around one o’clock. I was beginning to think you would sleep all day. There’s some scrambled eggs in the fridge for you. I’ll go warm them up and bring them here.”

“Dean, you don’t have to—” Dean had completely ignored his protests, and was already out the door. Castiel rolled his eyes. He suspected Dean must be feeling guilty for some reason. Well, he shouldn’t. None of this was his fault, and none of it was anything Cas didn’t already deserve.

Dean returned a few minutes later and deposited the plate onto Castiel’s lap. Cas didn’t even realize how hungry he was until the amazing smell hit his nose. It didn’t take long for him to finish eating, and Dean stayed patiently seated in the chair the whole time.

“So, Cas, about last night…”

Castiel suddenly wished he hadn’t eaten so quickly. It might have delayed the conversation just a bit longer. Nevertheless, he reluctantly leaned back against the wall. “What about it?”

Dean shifted slightly. “Well, I don’t know. I’m just confused about a few things. Well, mostly one thing but—”

“Get to the point, Dean.”

“Right, it’s just—why did you say I was right? About calling you- you know- what I called you?”

Cas winced. He shouldn’t have said that. Too late now. Castiel internally debated what to do. Dean already knew that he had been homeless, but prostitution was a whole different ball park. Dean would think he was disgusting. Well, more disgusting, anyways.

“Cas?”

Castiel sighed and made up his mind. Might as well get it over with. “Because you were right. I was a whore.”

Dean huffed in apparent frustration. “No, Cas, you’re not. Like I said last night, sex doesn’t—I mean, okay just wait—last night you mentioned like—but, I mean I’m sure you didn’t mean—”

“I had to make money somehow, Dean,” he replied flatly. There. Done. The truth was out.

Dean had turned completely pale and slightly green, and for a moment Cas was genuinely concerned Dean might be sick. This was exactly what Cas knew would happen—Dean was disgusted.

“What?” Dean’s voice was barely a whisper. “But I mean, you didn’t, like—you know—”

Castiel rolled his eyes. This was more difficult than anticipated, and he was trying his best not to show how much he was panicking. During his time as a human he had discovered that appearing angry or apathetic seemed to help in these situations. “Yes, Dean, I did.”

“But _why_? Why not get a normal job?” Dean almost looked heartbroken, and Castiel honestly didn’t understand why Dean was so upset.

“Dean, I had no papers, no experience, I didn’t even have an identity.” God, Castiel couldn’t handle how guilty Dean looked right now. “It wasn’t a big deal, Dean. I did what I had to do.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “Not a big deal? Jesus, Cas, no one should have to do that just to survive!”

Castiel only shrugged and looked away. He could tell Dean’s mind was going a mile a minute trying to process what Castiel was saying,

“Wait, so that night I called… had you already been doing, you know, doing that by then?”

Cas nodded in response. His headache still hadn’t gone away, and this conversation wasn’t exactly helping. He wished he had his fucking pills.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Cas? I could have helped. Jesus, this is all my fault. How can you even look at me anymore, knowing what I put you through—” Castiel returned his gaze to Dean’s pleading eyes and smiled gently.

“You didn’t put me through anything, Dean. There’s no need to blame yourself. I wasn’t going to beg you to let me come back to the bunker, I know you had your reasons for kicking me out. And that’s okay. I don’t blame you.”

Dean scoffed and looked down at his hands, a grimace marring his face. “Well, you should, Cas. I can’t believe you could just forgive me like that.”

“There was nothing to forgive. Even if there was, there isn’t much you can do that I _wouldn’t_ forgive you for.”

They were both silent for a few moments, both lost in their own thoughts. If Castiel were being honest, this wasn’t how he had expected this conversation to go. He had expected Dean to, I don’t know, laugh at him maybe? Yell at him? Tell Castiel how pathetic he truly was? He hadn’t expected Dean to feel so guilty. Maybe Dean was just surprised; Castiel was almost certain Dean would begin to feel those things eventually.

“Okay, okay, wait, did your friends know about this? Did they help you?”

Castiel sighed heavily. “Of course they knew, Dean. Jake was the one who told me what to do, and Michael…” Cas trailed of, unsure of whether or not he should tell Dean this part. Dean, of course, noticed.

“You’re kidding me,” Dean snapped. “Your fucking boyfriend knew about this and didn’t even try to help you?”

Cas couldn’t help it. He started laughing. The thought of _Michael_ as his _boyfriend_ was somehow so absurd to him that it was comical. Dean did not look amused, and Castiel managed to compose himself. “Dean,” he said gently, “Michael is _not_ my boyfriend. He was a client.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “I’m sorry, he _what_?”

“He was a client, Dean. Granted, he’s much nicer than the other men I catered to but—”

“This is a joke, right? Please tell me this is a joke,” Dean said angrily.

Castiel felt a pang of hurt go off in his chest, but he tried not to let it show. Instead he just looked down at his hands and frowned slightly. “Look, Dean, while I’m sure you find it hilarious that I managed to become so pathetic, I can ensure you that this is not a joke.”

He suddenly found himself enveloped in Dean’s arms, Dean’s smell, Dean’s warmth. “Dammit, Cas—that’s not what I—I just meant that I hoped this wasn’t true. You shouldn’t have had to go through those things, Cas. I should have been there.”

Cas simply shrugged again, trying not to get distracted by the fact that he was in a bed with Dean Winchester wrapped around him. Hugs from Dean were rare, and Castiel wasn’t entirely sure what he had done to deserve one. Dean pulled back slightly, and Cas barely restrained himself from leaning back into Dean’s body.

“Listen to me, Cas. I’m an idiot. I’ve been acting like a dick lately, and there’s really no excuse for it. But I’m trying, Cas, I’m really trying. I guess I just have to try harder. I don’t want you to feel useless, or annoying, or alone, because you aren’t any of those things. And I don’t want you to be afraid of me, or of my reactions. I’m gonna work on being, I don’t know, calmer I guess, because I don’t want to mess this up, Cas.”

“Dean, you don’t need to—”

“Yes I do, Cas. I need _you._ ”

Castiel couldn’t help the blush that spread across his face. He knew Dean didn’t mean it like _that,_ but his foolish brain couldn’t help but hope… No. Cas had to accept reality, he needed to be grateful that Dean seemed to care about him at all, even if it wasn’t in the way Cas wanted.

But when Cas replied, “I need you too, Dean. More than you could ever know,” he allowed himself to pretend.


	22. Chapter 22

Dean dragged a hand down his face as he sat at the dining room table. The past forty-eight hours had been full of fucked up revelations about Castiel’s life as a human, and Dean was having a hard time processing it all. He couldn’t help but analyze every single moment he had spent with the angel since Cas arrived at the bunker. Looking back, the signs were so obvious that a blind guy could have seen them. And Dean _had_ seen them, he had just chosen to ignore them and hope that he was looking into it too much. From how run down Castiel looked physically, to how clueless he still was when it came to basic human activities. Even the conversation Dean had witnessed with Michael. ‘ _You haven’t been in your usual spot’ ‘I don’t have to work anymore’._ Ugh. Now wonder the douche bag had been all over Cas like that.

Thinking of Castiel standing on some rundown street corner on a cold night made him physically ill—not to mention the thought of him spending his time pleasing sleazy men just so he could get something to eat. Dean shuddered involuntarily.

No wonder Cas had reacted so badly when Dean had called him a whore. Jesus fucking Christ, how had Dean managed to toss out the thing that would hurt Cas the most without even realizing it? Castiel must have been terrified of what Dean would think of him.

Dean heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and looked up to see Sammy leaning against the doorway. “Talk to Cas, yet?”

Dean grimaced and nodded. He had already told Sam about Cas being homeless in the morning, but this was much, much worse.

“Yeah, I uh… It’s worse than we thought, Sammy. He—” Dean stopped to clear his throat, not wanting to risk his voice cracking. He was afraid to say it out loud. Saying it would make it seem more real, somehow. “He had to fucking sell himself, Sam. He needed money to eat.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Oh my god, that’s—that’s horrible, Dean. Is he, I mean is he doing okay?”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah. He said it ‘wasn’t a big deal’. He decided to go back to sleep after I talked to him. I guess he’s still tired.”

“Yeah, I bet. It’s been a long day,” Sam gave Dean a sympathetic look that Dean bristled at. “What about you, Dean?”

“I’m fine, Sam,” his voice was stern, but obviously Sam didn’t get the message.

“Dean, this isn’t your fault—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Sammy. I mean it.” Sam shot him his best puppy dog eyes, but Dean managed to stay strong and resist them.

Dean was relieved that Cas was still wiped out from getting dangerously drunk and walking all the way to Ebson. Cas needed the rest, and quite frankly Dean needed some more time to figure out how to deal with this situation.

As if reading his mind, Sam flopped down into the seat across from Dean and asked, “So what are we gonna do about this?  Like, how are we supposed to help him?”

Dean just shook his head and let out a long breath. “I don’t know, Sammy. I really don’t know.”

******

“I don’t know Michael…”

Castiel was tidying up his room, his phone smushed between his shoulder and his cheek. He had found that as a human he preferred things to be spotless—likely partially due to the conditions he had to endure when he had lived in the dumpster—so he often cleaned to pass the time.

“Come on, angel,” Michael whined. “It’s been almost a week.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you call one of the other countless people you sleep with? I’m sure they would love to come over to your place. I can’t drop everything just because you’re horny.” Castiel could practically hear Michael pouting.

“You know I don’t usually sleep with the same person more than once, Clarence. I mean, I guess I _could_ try to hit up a bar, but that requires so much effort.”

Castiel set down the shirt he had been folding and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he said in a defeated voice. “I’ll see what I can do, but I’m not promising anything. I haven’t left the bu— _house_ since Dean found out about the whole hooker thing. He’s been too protective. And I’m pretty sure he’s still grossed out by the fact that I’m gay, so I doubt he’ll be happy about me spending time with you.”

Michael huffed on the other end of the line. “You’re a grown ass man, Clarence. You have the right to do what you want, no matter what he thinks.”

“I know but it’s just—It’s complicated, Michael. Like I said, I’ll see what I can do. But if I can go you’ll still have to pick me up.”

“Of course. I’ll send Vinny to the same spot.” Michael sounded happy, which was good. It was refreshing to actually be _wanted_ so much by someone.

They ended the call soon after that, and Castiel hesitantly stepped out of his room. He had thrown on some semi-decent clothes in case Dean said yes. He didn’t want to awkwardly go back to his room and change afterwards.

Things between he and Dean had actually gone surprisingly well since that night five days ago. Dean didn’t actually seem too disgusted by him, which was a pleasant surprise. For the first few days Dean and Sam would tiptoe around Cas as though they were afraid of breaking him, but Castiel had snapped at them for it and they had stopped. The cut on Cas’s head was healing nicely, but he was covered in nasty bruises from the fall.

Both Dean’s room and the kitchen were vacant, but Castiel managed to find him eventually. He was in the garage polishing up the Impala with a soapy sponge. Castiel tried not to focus too much on the fact that Dean was shirtless and had stray suds trailing down his chest.

“Um, Dean? Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Dean glanced up, and his face broke into a grin upon seeing the angel. “Sure buddy. What’s up?”

_Don’t look at his chest. Don’t look at his chest. Don’t look at his chest._

Castiel absentmindedly bit his lip, trying to find a way to tell Dean without making Dean angry or disgusted. He was sure Dean would be able to tell exactly what activities Michael had in mind for Cas’s visit the moment he brought it up. And given how badly Dean reacted to finding Cas slept with Michael last time… Well, Cas would just have to be careful with how he worded this.

“I was thinking about going out today,” Cas began cautiously.

Dean stood up and wiped his soapy hands on his jeans. “Alright, give me a minute to get ready and we can take the Impala.”

Shit. Cas shouldn’t have started out that vague. “No, no, it’s fine, I don’t need you to drive me,” he rushed to say.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Well you aren’t gonna get far without a ride. It’s not a big deal, Cas, I don’t mind driving you. There’s no way I’m gonna let you walk all the way to town.”

Technically Cas had walked farther than that just fine on his own, but it was probably best not to bring that up at the moment. “No, Dean, I’m not going to walk I—” Castiel sighed in defeat and glanced down at the ground momentarily. “Michael is picking me up.”

“Oh.” Dean’s face fell almost instantly, and Castiel almost regretted bringing it up. If he were being honest, he really did want to spend some time with Michael. But it still killed him to see how Dean reacted to being reminded of Cas’s sexuality. It was just another painful reminder that Castiel would never be able to have Dean the way he wanted to.

“Yes,” he replied lamely. Cas stood there for another moment, unsure what to do. “I guess I better get going—”

“Cas, wait, just—” Dean rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “He’s not still, like, paying you is he?”

Castiel smiled faintly at Dean’s concern. “Of course not, Dean.”

Dean just nodded and looked down, eyebrows scrunched together and a slight frown on his lips.

Cas sighed. Even though he knew Dean disapproved of Castiel’s activities, he could tell the hunter was still worried about him. “I’ll be fine, Dean. I promise.” Cas threw in a reassuring smile for good measure, but Dean still appeared to be conflicted.

“Wait, Cas, but,” Dean blushed slightly. “I mean, if he’s not, you know, paying, then why do you still… hang out with him?”

 _Because it’s nice to feel useful for once._ “Because he’s nice to me,” Cas said simply. “Don’t worry, Dean, he’s not coercing me in anyway. I enjoy being with him.”

And that statement was exactly what made Dean feel even worse.

*****

Without even looking up Dean could tell that Sammy was glaring at him. He stubbornly ignored it, and Sam sighed.

“Dean seriously. Stop stabbing your food like that and eat it. You’re going to scratch the plate with the fork.”

Dean clenched his jaw and put down the fork with exaggerated motions. He knew he was acting like a petulant child, but at this point he honestly didn’t care. It had been over six hours since Cas had left and Dean had been in a bad mood ever since. His stupid brain couldn’t stop pointing out that Castiel was probably on that douche bag’s bed _right now._

Assuming they had sex on the bed. Hell, for all Dean knew they could do it in the fucking living room. And Jesus Christ, why was it taking so _long_? Who the hell went at it for _six_ _fucking_ _hours_? Dean swore to God, if Castiel wasn’t home soon he was gonna—

As if hearing his thoughts, the sound of the bunker door opening suddenly rang out across the bunker. Sure enough, a few moments later Cas poked his head into the kitchen.

“Oh good. You guys haven’t finish dinner yet.” Castiel plopped down in the seat across from Dean, and Dean really fucking hoped that the way Cas winced slightly was from his bruises and not something else.

“Hey, Cas,” Sam greeted happily. “We saved some spaghetti for you, I’ll go warm it up really quick.” Sam moved to get up and Castiel began to protest.

“Sam, no, you don’t have to—”

Sam smiled gently at him. “It’s fine, Cas. I need a new beer anyways.”

This seemed to appease Castiel slightly, as he thanked Sam and didn’t protest further. Dean suddenly noticed that Cas’s hair looked slightly wet.

“Did you get stuck in some rain or something?” Dean tried to make sure not to let his annoyance show. He needed to be careful not to take his anger out on Cas anymore, especially considering that he wasn’t exactly sure _why_ he was angry.

Cas looked confused for a moment before he blushed and looked down at the table. “Oh, no, we t—I took a shower.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, immediately noticing the accidental slip up. Cas had fucking _shower_ _sex_. Dean adamantly ignored the thought, and instead put all of his concentration on picking up his fork and pushing around the pasta on his plate.

_Don’t fucking think about Cas having shower sex don’t do it don’t do it—_

Luckily Sam chose that moment to return, plate of spaghetti in hand, effectively sparing Dean any more awkwardness.

“Here you go, Cas,” Sam said as he sat down again. “Did you have fun visiting Michael?”

Dean eyes widened and he kicked Sam under the table, giving him a death glare. Seriously, what the hell was Sam thinking? Sam just stared back at Dean incredulously, silently asking what the fuck Dean’s problem was. Dean raised his eyebrows and jerked his head slightly towards Castiel, and that’s when he realized Cas was squinting at the two brothers.

Dean awkwardly cleared his throat and refocused his attention on his food, highly aware of the fact that Cas was looking at him suspiciously.

“Thank you for asking, Sam. And yes, I did have fun. I find my time with Michael to be quite enjoyable.”

Dean snorted. _Yeah, I’ll bet Cas had fucking ‘fun’._ Sam shot Dean a glare as Castiel looked down and frowned at his plate.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Sam said while pointedly looking at Dean. Dean ignored him. “After all, _Dean_ and I only want for you to be happy.” The sentence was emphasized by a swift kick to Dean’s shin.

“ _Ow_. Oh. Yeah, Cas, as long as you’re happy, we’re happy.” Dean’s accompanying smile was weak, but Cas seemed to at least somewhat appreciate the effort.

He gave Dean one of the gentle, understanding smiles that made Dean’s heart feel weird.

Dean only wished that he could force himself to shove his own twisted feelings aside and make what he had just said the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I literally have a 3 page essay due in two hours but of course my stupid ass can't focus on anything but this fic *rolls eyes*. Oh well, at least I got another chapter up, right?   
> As always, thanks for reading, and good luck!


	23. Chapter 23

Another two weeks had passed, and Cas had fucking gone out with Michael _three more times._ Granted, that was less often than Dean typically got laid, but still. And speaking of getting laid, Dean hadn’t even gone out to a bar since that night Cas accidentally fell asleep outside. Dean had thought about going out, sure, but somehow the thought of picking up some hot chick wasn’t even all that appealing anymore.

Dean instead spent most of his time fretting over Cas. The angel had seemed off lately, and Dean suspected it was from withdrawal. He hated to deny Castiel anything, but drugs were where he drew the line. Cas could not, under any circumstances, become the fallen angel Dean had met in Zachariah’s vision.

In an effort to distract Castiel from his need for pills, Dean had brought back movie nights with Cas. Sam ended joining sometimes, too, but Dean found he preferred it when it was just the two of them. Cas had taken to propping his feet up on Dean’s lap as he laid on the couch, and Dean pretended he didn’t actually like it as much as he did.

Sam had spent the whole week bitching about running out of apples, so right now Dean was at the Walmart in Lawrence, hoping to buy some fruit and get Sam to shut the hell up. Fucking health nut. Oh well, they needed some other supplies anyways.

Dean had been passing by the home goods isle, on the way to pick himself up a pie from the pastry section, when something made him stop and turn back. It was one of those fuzzy types of blankets that Castiel loved, except this one had fucking _bees_ on it. It looked like it was made for a fucking five-year-old. Dean stared at it for a moment. _Don’t do it, don’t be fucking lame and girly._

Dean hesitantly began to push his cart forward again. He barely made it ten fucking steps before he sighed in frustration and went back to grab it. Jesus Christ, when the hell did Dean get so damn mushy?

Whatever. He picked up his pie (cherry, a good, classic flavor) and finished the rest of his shopping. The cute girl at the checkout shot him a look when she reached the blanket, but luckily remained otherwise silent.

When Dean pulled up to the bunker garage, he dug the blanket out of the bag and looked at it, debating how to give it to Cas without looking even more lame. Should he just hand it to him? Should he put in on Cas’s bed? Was he supposed to say something when he gave it to him? Dean huffed in frustration. He was making this way harder than it needed to be. He just needed to man up and give Cas the stupid present

As it turned out, he ended up unceremoniously chucking the damn thing at the angel’s head as he walked past. Gently, of course. Cas had glared at him for a moment after catching it, but the second he noticed what it was his face broke out in a warm, gummy grin. Dean had resolutely ignored the way Castiel sounded nearly breathless when thanked him, but found himself unable to contain the pleased feeling unfurling in his chest.

****

Every so often, Dean would do something, just for a moment, that would make Castiel feel a sensation _almost_ akin to hope. Like when Dean would leave his hand on Castiel’s shoulder for a beat too long, or the way he used to adjust Castiel’s tie, or the way he would give Castiel that _one special smile_ that made Cas feel like internally combusting.

 This was one of the moments. Castiel lying in his bed, clutching the blanket Dean had bought him to his chest as the soft fluffy fabric tickled the bottom his chin. Castiel had _never_ received a gift from Dean. Or anyone, for that matter. Needless to say, he had been quite surprised when Dean had casually thrown the object at his head, but he had been even more shocked when he realized what the object was.

Dean Winchester rarely gave gifts, and yet he had chosen to give one to _Castiel_ , of all people. Cas squeezed the blanket tighter. He knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up. He knew that. Hope was a pesky human emotion that more often than not ended in disappointment. Yet nevertheless the feeling persisted, buzzing around his mind like a fly he couldn’t kill.

Because the reality was that Dean would never love Castiel. Not only due to the fact that Cas was notably unremarkable and unworthy, but also because he occupied a male vessel. Dean had made his thoughts on homosexuality quite clear, and though he apparently tolerated Castiel’s exploits there was no way he would accept Cas’s feelings should he find out about them—let alone return them.

A quick glance at the clock revealed that it was already almost midnight. If things were how they used to be, Cas would already be high by now. But things weren’t how be, and somehow Castiel found that he was happy about that fact. Yes, he missed the pills and the joints, but he had missed Dean more. Dean hadn’t even gone out drinking since he found out the truth about Castiel’s old life.

Of course Castiel knew that this would eventually change, and that this life was far from ideal. But for now, he would take what he was mercifully given and be grateful for it.

_Easier said than done_

********

Dean was in Cas’s room, the comforting smell of laundry detergent wafting through the air. He had just finished his teaching Cas how to do laundry. Cas accidentally used way too much soap, but overall it had gone okay. The basket of freshly cleaned clothes had been unceremoniously dumped on Castiel’s bed as the two got to work folding them. Cas had been in the middle of trying to convince Dean that they should plant a garden when Dean saw it.

There was a scrap of pale blue lace peeking out from under the pile. Dean’s eyebrows scrunched together. As far as he knew, Castiel didn’t own anything with lace.

Dean’s curiosity got the best of him, and he tugged the item out from under the other warm clothes. It was much smaller than Dean had anticipated, and the more Dean looked at them more confused he became. What even is—holy shit. Holy shit. They’re fucking _panties_.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh, Cas? Since when do you sleep with chicks?” Jesus Christ, how often was Cas getting laid nowadays?

Castiel immediately looked up from the shirt he had been folding with a look of confusion on his face. “Dean, I can assure I—” His voice cut off as he noticed what Dean was holding. Cas yanked the offending item out of Dean’s hands, hiding it behind his back guiltily as though Dean didn’t already know what it was. “Dean,” he stammered, “those aren’t—I didn’t—it’s”

Castiel’s entire face had flushed red and he looked at Dean with wide, pleading eyes. “You weren’t supposed to see those. Please, Dean, just forget about this—”

“It’s not a big deal, Cas, I just” Dean’s eyebrows scrunched together. “I though you weren’t into, you know, females.” A slight frown tugged at Dean’s lips. Maybe Cas was bi? Great, that meant there were even more people Cas could sleep with. Not that Dean cared about who Cas slept with or anything.

“Dean, I’m not—” Castile dragged a hand down his face and sighed. “They’re mine.”

“What? What are yours?” Cas stared at the ground, avoiding eye contact with Dean. What was Cas even talking about?

“The—oh my god, Dean, this is humiliating enough already, please don’t make me say it out loud.”

This was getting more and more confusing by the second. It didn’t make any sense for Cas to be so embarrassed about Dean finding out he had slept with a girl. “Cas, I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about right now.”

Castiel’s shoulder’s slumped in defeat, the blush still going strong. “They—they were mine. When I wore them, people would pay more.”

“Oh. _Oh.”_ Now Dean was the one blushing. “Wait, so—you wore those?” And fuck, Dean wasn’t sure why that came out as a squeak. Men don’t squeak, dammit.

Castiel nodded, still not looking at Dean, and Dean’s eyes widened. Cas in panties. Cas with pale blue lace stretched across his hips, barely containing his hard ere—

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly and definitely _was_ _not_ straining against his jeans at the moment. “Oh,” he said again lamely.

Cas just blushed again. “I apologize, Dean. I know this makes you uncomfortable—”

“Cas, it’s fine,” Dean said in exasperation. _~~It’s more than fine~~. Shut up._ Dean shook his head lightly, trying to get his thoughts in order. “I’m not going to judge you, man.” And really, how could Dean judge Castiel, considering that thing with Rhonda.

The angel seemed to relax slightly, but there was still obvious tension in the room. Cas sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, Dean, maybe it’s best if I just finish this on my own...”

Dean nodded hastily. “Yeah, yeah, that’s probably for the best.” The last thing he wanted was for Cas to notice that Dean’s dick was acting like a little bitch. And, just for the record, Dean definitely _did not_ flee to his room and jack off. And _if_ (if) he had, it was _only_ due to the fact that he was just pent up from not getting laid recently. That was all.


	24. Chapter 24

“Dean, I don’t think I’m doing this right.”

Dean glanced over at the dough Cas was kneading and smiled fondly. There was just something about seeing Castiel baking a _pie_ of all things that made Dean ridiculously happy. “You’re doing great, Cas. You just gotta add a bit more flour.”

Cas looked like a hot mess. The dough was sticking to his fingers and he had stray traces of flour in his hair and on his face. Jesus Christ, it wasn’t fair that Castiel could look so cute like that. No, not cute. That was _not_ what Dean had meant to think.

Ever since that fiasco with the panties, things had been… strange. For Dean, at least. He made sure to keep most of his internal conflict, well, internal though. He didn’t want Cas to think he was uncomfortable with him.

But the truth was, Dean _is_ uncomfortable. He just couldn’t figure out why. He was beginning to get an inkling suspicion of what this was about, (hey, Dean wasn’t _completely_ clueless) but he had decided to ignore those thoughts until he was 100% sure. This wasn’t something he wanted to risk being wrong about. It was a big deal. Most of the panic about the possible revelation was beginning to ebb away, but he was still uneasy about the whole thing. He couldn’t risk messing this up, after all that Cas had gone through…

Dean shook his head slightly and returned his attention to cutting the apples. Cas had walked into the kitchen about twenty minutes ago and had promptly declared that he wanted to make Dean a pie. And boy, didn’t that statement do weird things to Dean’s heart. Cas had initially wanted to try it all on his own, but in the end had to get some help from Dean. While the angel’s cooking skills had definitely improved since his arrival at the bunker, he still had trouble figuring out what was normal when it came to how food should look or taste.

Once he had finished all the chopping, he turned to see how Cas was doing. Castiel had his tongue sticking out between his lips, his face a mask of pure concentration as he gently moved the thinned out dough over to the pie tin. At the very last moment the dough stretched too much and ripped slightly. Cas pouted in frustration.

“I fear I am not adequate at making pies,” he said with disappointment.

Dean clapped a hand on Cas’s shoulder. “Cas, It’s fine. You’re doing great for your first time, you just need a little practice, okay?”

Cas still seemed upset, and Dean noticed his bottom lip was wavering. Shit. “Hey, Cas, look at me,” Dean said gently. Cas reluctantly complied, his defeated expression making Dean even more concerned. “It’s not a big deal, Cas, we can fix the dough. What’s this about?”

“I had hoped,” Castiel began after a few moments, “that I could do at least this one small, inconsequential task for you without failing. I had hoped that maybe, if I could provide you with your favorite food, you would be compelled to keep me around. I only wish to be of use to you, and yet…” Cas shook his head and averted his eyes as Dean felt his heart break. Again.

He swiftly pulled Cas into a hug. Granted, his motivation for doing so wasn’t entirely selfless, but hey, Cas looked like he could use one anyways. “Cas, man, we’ve been over this. You don’t need to convince me to keep you around. I need you, Cas, angel or not. I hate it when you’re not here.” Dear god, Dean was turning into a chick.

Castiel pulled back slightly, much to Dean’s disappointment. “Then why…” Cas trailed of and shook his head, schooling his emotions into an expressionless mask. Dean hated when he did that; it reminded him too much of when he and Cas first met, before Cas began to trust him. “Nevermind. I apologize for being so dramatic. It appears I am still adjusting to the intensity of human emotions.”

 _Human emotions, my ass_. There was definitely something else that Castiel was upset about. “Cas, you know you can tell me anything, right?” Dean’s voice came out small and worried, and he cursed himself internally.

Cas smiled gently at him and relaxed slightly. “Of course, Dean,” he said reassuringly. “Now, do you mind helping me fix the crust? The apples are going to start to turn brown.” Cas turned back to the counter and Dean narrowed his eyes. This was obviously a diversion, but he didn’t want to press Castiel to talk if he wasn’t ready yet.

So instead he clamped his worries down to fret about later and helped Cas fix the crust. It was pretty easy to patch up, and Castiel seemed relieved that it turned out okay. They made quick work of finishing off the rest of the pie; Cas making the glaze and Dean stepping into help when needed. Cas made one of those fancy lattice things to cover the pie, and the pride in his expression made Dean smile. Yeah, the atmosphere was a bit more tense now, but overall it was fun. Dean liked spending time with Cas. And he was pretty sure Cas felt the same way.

********

Cas loved spending time with Dean. There was a sense of comfort that came with Dean’s presence, an element that somehow made Castiel feel safe and at peace.

There were also times when it became almost too much, times when Cas became so overwhelmed with his feelings that he was afraid he would break and lose all sense of control. He feared he would do something stupid or irreversible; that those three words would escape his lips, that he would impulsively lean in for a kiss, that his uncontrollable human reactions would take over. Sometimes when he was with Dean he felt like he could die, but that would be alright, he wouldn’t mind so long as Dean was the cause.

Take, for example, right now. The air was filled with the delicious scent of apple pie, the residual heat from the oven was warming the bunker, and Dean was _moaning_. His mouth was stuffed with the dessert Cas had prepared and his eyes were closed in bliss and he was moaning and Cas was sure he would go insane if this continued for much longer. Castiel had experienced having his wings ripped from his being, knifes dragged down his skin, molten steel burning his flesh, but this— _this_ was torture.

“Oh my god, _Cas,_ this is amazing!”

Castiel shifted uncomfortably and looked away, grateful Dean’s eyes were closed so he wouldn’t see his blush. His mind was betraying him by conjuring up images of much _different_ scenarios in which Dean may say those words. Scenarios that were strictly impossible.

Cas looked up again only to find that Dean’s eyes were open and staring straight at him. He tried not to blush again. He failed. “Thank you, Dean.” It was a miracle that his voice was steady.

“No, really,” he said eagerly, “this is really, really good. And this is only your first try! Imagine what it would be like once you get some more practice!”

A familiar warmth unfurled in Castiel’s chest. It was nice to be able to please Dean, and Cas hoped it was something he would be able to do more often. Cas redirected his attention to his own piece of pie. It was quite good, but honestly that was most likely due to all of the help he had gotten from Dean.

“Thank you, Dean, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be nearly half as good without your assistance.”

Dean flashed him a wide but bashful smile. “Thanks, Cas. Maybe it’s just because we work so well together, we balance each other out, you know? We’re a perfect match!” Dean’s eyes widened suddenly and he blushed. “I mean, in the kitchen. Like, cooking wise and stuff.”

Cas narrowed his eyes at the hunter. Why would he… unless Dean felt—No. that wasn’t it. It had been an honest mistake, and Dean was probably just embarrassed because he didn’t want to seem ‘gay’. That was the only possible explanation. Cas was projecting, he was looking into it too much, his foolish hope was blinding hi—

His pondering was cut off by a knock at the bunker door. Dean’s head whipped up and he stared at Cas questioningly, but Cas could only shrug. Sam was in his room, and they certainly hadn’t been expecting company.

Dean stood up, grabbing a gun out of one of the kitchen drawers. There was another set of knocks. Who could it be? Surely the angels hadn’t found them, and even if they had they wouldn’t waste their time knocking.

Cas followed Dean into the living room despite Dean mouthing at him to stay in the kitchen. Dean shot him a glare, but continued up the stairs anyways. He pulled he door open, letting the light spill in from outside.

“What’s up, bitches?”

Cas tilted his head. The voice was feminine and extremely enthusiastic, but not one he could recognize. This apparently wasn’t the case for Dean, as he immediately grinned and pulled the girl into a fierce hug.

“Charlie! What are you doing here? How have you been? Jeez, you could have called once in a while to let us know you were alright!”

A frown tugged at Castiel’s lips. Dean seemed to care deeply for the girl, and this fact made Cas unnecessarily concerned. Nevertheless, he managed to pull on a tight smile just as the girl escaped Dean’s grasp and looked up.

“I’m fine, Dean. And if you were so worried, you coulda called too,” she said exasperatedly. Her eyes suddenly caught on Cas and she shot him a bright smile. “Dean, who’s the cutie over there?”

Dean glanced at Cas as though he had forgotten he was there at all. “Oh, that’s Cas. You know about him already. He’s human now, though. And Cas, this is Charlie. She’s a friend.”

Castiel waved awkwardly at the girl, unsure of how to proceed. What kind of ‘friend’? And what did Dean mean she already knew about him? Had they said something to her? Surely it couldn’t have been good.

But the girl—Charlie—only smiled wider. “Wow, he really is dreamy,” she said in awe. “Speaking of dreamy, is that pie I smell?”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, we just made some. Go tell Sam that you’re here, he’s probably in his room.”

Once she was out of sight Castiel returned his attention to Dean. He seemed… happy. About the girl being here. Which was fine really. It was good. He liked it when Dean was happy, that’s all Castiel had ever wanted for Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact about me: I paint stuff and I typically use old refilled water bottles to clean my brushes because I can reseal them with the cap, so that's how I ended up chugging and entire bottle of acrylic laced water at 3 am the other night because I was thirsty and thought it was a fresh one. Im a fucking idiot. :/


	25. Chapter 25

Having Charlie around was… confusing. On one hand, Castiel felt drawn to her somehow; her chipper attitude was endearing, and her presence didn’t fail to make him smile. On the other hand, Dean seemed to feel the same way. There was a certain chemistry between the two of them that made Castiel’s skin itch. Granted, the interactions between the two didn’t seem to be sexual or romantic—far from it, in fact—but Cas feared this wouldn’t last long. Charlie was an attractive young female and Dean… well, Dean was Dean. Inevitably, the two would likely connect at some point, and Castiel resented that fact.

But he couldn’t resent Charlie. He would not allow his foolish emotions to lead him to feel that way. Besides, if—when—Charlie and Dean connected, it would likely be for the best. Dean would be happy, and it might force Castiel to move on. Okay, that last part was unlikely, but still. In the meantime, Castiel decided to enjoy his time with the new addition to the bunker.

They were all seated at the dining table, and Dean was in such a good mood that he had begrudgingly offered both Charlie and Sam a slice a pie. Granted, the slices were a bit small, but it was an honor to receive pie from Dean Winchester. Charlie was enthusiastically detailing what she had been up to since she last contacted the Winchesters, which mostly consisted describing the hunts she had been on. _(“What do you mean you’ve been on hunts,” Dean had said angrily. “You could have gotten hurt!”_ _Charlie had rolled her eyes in response. “I’m a grown ass woman, Dean, I can handle myself.”)_ Castiel had found himself wondering when Dean and Sam would begin hunting again.

Sam was fully healed from the trials, and Castiel had no doubt that the world could use some assistance. Not only were demons and the variety of other creatures still on the loose, but now there were _angels_ thrown into the mix as well. And yet neither of the hunters had even uttered a word about returning to their old way of life. It was strange. Honestly, Castiel would much prefer if the boys never got back into hunting, but he knew that was beyond impossible.

Castiel was drawn out of his thoughts by Charlie’s voice. “So where did you get this pie anyways? It’s like, really really good.”

Cas blushed and looked down just a Sam added, “Yeah, I thought you only bought a cherry one when you went to the store a couple weeks ago.”

When Castiel glanced up again Dean was beaming at him. “Cas, made it,” he declared proudly. “ _And_ it’s his first try.”

A warm feeling spread through Cas’s chest at Dean’s enthusiasm.

 Sam raised his eyebrows. “Wow, Cas, you’re getting really good at cooking.”

Charlie nodded eagerly, shoving another bite into her mouth. “Yeah, this is amazing!”

Castiel blushed again, unaccustomed to receiving such strong praise. “It was nothing, really,” he said shyly. “Dean did most of the work.”

Dean grinned at him. “Don’t try and make me take the credit for this, Cas. You did good. I’m proud of ya.”

Cas felt as though his whole face was on fire. But in a good way, somehow. Dean was _proud of him_. Why? How? Cas was flustered by this revelation, but he tried not to let it get to him. It was probably too good to be true, anyways.

******

“Oh my god, this is too good to be true.” Dean whipped out his phone to take a picture—otherwise Sam would never believe him.

“What,” Charlie asked innocently. Cas simply tilted his head in confusion. God, Dean loved when he did that.

Dean had walked into Cas’s room in hopes of convincing him to bake another pie (they had finished the other one the day after they baked it) and had stumbled upon what might be the one of the strangest sights he had ever seen. Which was saying something. Charlie was seated cross-legged on the guy’s bed and Castiel, former angel of the lord and fierce warrior of God, _was fucking braiding Charlie’s hair_. He was sitting behind her calmly and had his bee blanket draped across his shoulders as he worked.

“What is this, a slumber party?” Dean stared at them incredulously. This was too fucking weird.

“You know what, that’s a good idea. Let’s make this a slumber party, Cas,” Charlie said casually. Castiel frowned slightly and nodded reluctantly, despite the fact that Dean was ninety percent sure the dude didn’t even know what a slumber party was. The angel’s attention was still dutifully focused on his task, as if Charlie’s hair was a very serious matter.

It had been about four days since Charlie had shown up at the bunker, and Dean honestly never could have predicted that she and Cas would hit it off so well. Her and Cas were practically polar opposites, and yet they had taken to each other like ducks to water. Hell, if both of them hadn’t been gay, Dean might have suspected there was something going on. And now Cas was fucking _doing Charlie’s hair_. God, this was weird. And the weirdest part was that Cas actually seemed to be _good_ at it. The braid looked as well-put together as the ones Dean had seen on other girls. Who would have thought that stoic Castiel would enjoy styling hair?

An idea popped into Dean’s head. “Hey, Cas, you should do Samantha’s hair next.” The thought of Sammy with little braids in his hair was fucking hilarious.

Castiel shot him a bitch face. Dean really needed to make him stop spending time with Sam. He was becoming a pro at it. “Dean,” Cas began exasperatedly, “you know Sam doesn’t like it when you call him that. And a would be willing to help Sam manage his hair, should he desire I do so. Had your hair been longer, I would have gladly done yours as well.”

Dean blushed slightly at the thought of Castiel’s hand in his hair. “Jesus, Cas, it was a joke. Guys don’t do their hair. Well, guys don’t usually do other people’s hair either, but…”

Cas frowned and his eyebrows furrowed. He completed the braid and secured it with a rubber band before scooting back and leaning against the wall. “I will never comprehend why you humans unnecessarily assign everything to gender. Gender is an irrelevant construct, and it certainly should not impact what one can and cannot do.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Anyways, Cas, do you wanna bake another pie tomorrow?” He tried to sound casual, but jesus he really wanted to get some more pie. And to spend time with Cas, but hey, he wasn’t about to admit that.

A pleased expression appeared on Cas’s face. “I would love to, Dean.”

“Good. That’s good.” There was something about the way Cas would talk to him like that, with that gentle devoted expression that never failed to make Dean squirm. “Right. Okay. And we’ll probably start the movie a bit earlier tonight, since Charlie wants to watch Lord of the Rings.”

Charlie smiled triumphantly. “Damn right I do. I can’t believe you haven’t made him watch it yet. I expected more from you,” she said with mock disappointment. “Now scoot. I’m gonna get Cas to paint my nails.”

Dean groaned internally, and Cas just looked at her curiously. Dean knew the guy would do it, too. Dear god, give him strength.

*******

“Good morning, Charlie.”

Charlie grinned at him. “Heya, Cas. Did you sleep well?”

Castiel nodded in response. He hadn’t, actually, but she didn’t need to know that. His response seemed to appease her.

“Good,” she said cheerily.

Castiel will never be able to comprehend how she manages to be so happy all the time, even in the mornings.

They had both happened to emerge from their rooms in search of breakfast at the same time. Charlie had chosen a room one door down from Dean’s to stay in. She was mostly just using it temporarily, as she had said she wasn’t sure how long she would be staying here. Castiel hoped she would remain here for a while; everyone’s mood seemed to be better in her presence.

Charlie yawned loudly as they started heading down the hall. “You know, now that we’re all taking a break from hunting, we should head to a bar sometime,” she said conversationally. “It’s been a long time since I’ve picked me up a lady friend.”

Cas froze mid-step and tilted his head. “Wait,” he said began slowly, “a lady friend? As in, you are interested in the female gender?”

Charlie stopped and turned to him. “Uh, yeah,” she scoffed. “I’m a lesbian. Did Dean not tell you?”

Did Dean...? Castiel’s eyes widened and he stepped towards her. “Dean knows? That you’re gay?” Some part of his mind informed him that this likely wasn’t the best way to respond to someone telling you they were gay, but he couldn’t focus on that. No, something wasn’t adding up.

“Yeah, Dean’s known, like, since I met him. Sam too.” Charlie paused for a moment and eyed him suspiciously. “Cas, what’s this about? Are you, like, against this kinda thing? Because I know you’re an angel and all religious and all that, but—”

“No, it’s not that, I—” Castiel frowned. “Dean _knows?_ And he doesn’t have an issue with it?”

“Why would he have an issue with it? There’s nothing wrong with being ga—”

“Charlie, I _know_ that,” Cas insisted. “But Dean—he—I thought he didn’t like—but then why does he act so—” Castiel’s mind was buzzing, trying to make sense of the situation. If Dean didn’t have a problem with gay people, then why does he react so strangely whenever Cas’s sexuality came up? Could it be that he was only okay with Charlie because she was female? But that didn’t make any sense; why single out one gender?

“ _Cas._ Talk to me, buddy. What’s this about?” Charlie was looking at him with concern evident in her eyes, but Castiel couldn’t even focus enough to feel guilty about worrying her.

He drew in a deep breath, trying to get his thoughts in order. “I—I make Dean uncomfortable. Because he knows I have interest in men. I had assumed he was simply against homosexuality, but…” Castiel trailed of and shook his head. “Maybe _I_ am what he finds repulsive.”

It would make sense. It hurt, but it made sense.

Charlie seemed completely thrown off by this revelation, but she quickly recovered. And there it was, that same look Sam gave him, that look of _pity_. “Cas,” she said softly, “I’m sure he doesn’t—”

“I’m still tired. I should return to bed. Thank you for helping me; please tell Dean I will eat breakfast later.” Cas stared to turn back but stopped to give Charlie a pleading look. “Please, don’t speak a word of this to Dean. Thank you.”

He robotically made his way back to his room and closed the door firmly against Charlie’s protests. Dean was uncomfortable because of _him_ , not because of his sexuality. It made sense, really. Who wouldn’t be repulsed by Castiel’s existence? Castiel certainly was, as were his siblings. It made sense.

 _Well_ , Castiel thought humorously, _at least I don’t have to worry about Charlie and Dean ending up together._

He wouldn’t have to worry about himself and Dean ending up together, either, but he had known that from the beginning.

Cas found he couldn’t dredge up the energy required to make the five-step journey to his bed. Instead he sunk back against the door, dragging a hand down his face as he went. It made sense.

Not for the first time, Castiel found himself wishing he still had some pills.

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where they actually start to work shit out for once, so this whole chapter is just one long (but very important) scene.

“Dean Winchester, you _homophobic_ _asshole_!”

Dean barely had time to look up from making his coffee before he was being hit in the chest. _Hard._ He quickly took a step back and rubbed the bruised area, giving a furious Charlie an incredulous glare.

“ _Ow._ What the fuck, Charlie? What is your problem?”

Charlie stepped closer to him, jamming a finger in his direction. “My _problem_ is that you are a homophobic _bag of dicks_!”

Dean shot a desperate glance at Sam, who was sitting at the table and watching the scene unfold with raised eyebrows. Sam just shrugged when Dean caught his gaze. _Great, some help that was_. Dean refocused his attention back to the furious red-head.

“Charlie, I have no fucking clue what you’re taking about right now, but it is _way_ too early for this shit.”

“I’m talking about _Cas_ ,” she yelled.

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed together. This really wasn’t making any sense. “Wait, Charlie, calm down for a second. What about Cas? What’s going on?”

Charlie glared at him for another moment until her shoulders suddenly dropped, the fight seeming to drain out of her momentarily. “I ran into him, before I came out here,” she explained as she ran a hand through her hair. “Somehow our conversation got off track, and he told me that he—dammit, Dean, he thinks you’re disgusted by him.”

“ _What_? Why would he think that?” Dean’s brows furrowed together. Yeah, he knew Cas had had trouble with those kinds of thoughts, but Dean had been sure that they had fixed that already. Things had been going good. Or at least, he thought they had been.

Charlie shook her head. “I don’t know, he wasn’t really making sense. He seemed confused that you were okay with me being, you know, into chicks. He said he made you uncomfortable, and he just thought it was ‘cause you didn’t like homosexuality. But now he seems to think that it’s just _him_ that you’re weirded out by.” The accusing glare returned as she narrowed her eyes at Dean. “I swear to god, Dean, if you’re only against _men_ being gay I’m going to whoop your—”

“Woah, hey, I never said I had a problem with him being gay. I _don’t_ have a problem with it.” Dean’s mind was reeling as he tried to process what Charlie was saying. “I don’t get it,” he said with a frown, “why would he even think that?”

Sam cleared his throat behind him and Dean whirled around to face him, narrowing his eyes at his brother’s hesitant expression. “What, Sammy,” he barked.

Sam winced slightly.  “Well, it’s just…” Sam trailed off and sighed. “You tend to get kinda…tense… whenever the topic comes up.”

Dean scoffed. “I do not,” he said defensively.

Sam shot him a bitch face. “Yeah, Dean, you do. I’ve definitely noticed it, and I’m sure Cas has too.”

Doubt began to form in Dean’s mind. Did he really come across that way? He sure as hell hadn’t meant to. He just didn’t like the thought of Cas with other guys. Jesus Christ, he always had to go and fuck things up, didn’t he?

Dean dragged a hand down his face and groaned. “I fucked up.”

He spared a glance at Charlie and she looked at him with an expression half anger and half sympathy. “Yeah, you did,” she agreed. “You really need to get your feelings in order, Dean. Cas needs your support.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know he does. Where did he go, anyways?”

“He went back to his room.” Charlie glanced away guiltily. “He actually asked me not to tell you any of this but… oh come on, you know I suck at keeping secrets.”

Dean smiled tightly. “It’s fine, Charlie. I’m glad you told me. God knows he never would have, and then this would have gone on forever.” He shook his head to himself. “I have to go talk to him, don’t I?”

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean’s reluctant expression. “Dean, not talking is what got you into this mess in the first place. This is why it’s important to express your emot—”

“I get the point, Samantha. I’ll go talk to him then.” Dean took in a deep breath. He sucked at having these types of conversations. Maybe he should convince Sam to go talk to Cas for him…?

“Dean,” Charlie said firmly, “Go.” She added a reassuring smile that made Dean snap out of it.

Okay. He can do this. He started off down the hallway, trying to plan out what to say. What _were_ you supposed to say to your best friend who you kinda might possibly have gay feelings for when he’s upset because he thinks your homophobic because you can’t get your head out of your ass? I’m sorry?

Dean didn’t even have enough time to panic because he was already outside Castiel’s door. He could just go to his own room instead, lie to Sam and Charlie later and tell them he talked to Cas. But then Cas would be stuck thinking that Dean was disgusted by him, which was the _opposite_ of the truth.

He sighed in defeat and cautiously knocked on the door. “Cas? Can I come in?”

The door opened less than a second later, making Dean think that Cas must have been near it already. His eyes looked a bit red, almost as though he had been crying, and the thought made Dean’s heart clench.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said with a weak smile. “I’m not feeling well, I’ll probably eat breakfast la—”

“Cut the crap, Cas. I know you upset.” Any qualms Dean had had about taking to Cas had been swept away the second he saw how troubled the angel had looked.

Castiel’s face fell and he seemed to deflate slightly. “Charlie talked to you,” he said tiredly.

“Damn straight she did.” Cas looked away and Dean had to force himself to soften his tone. “Cas, can I come in? Please?”

Cas still didn’t meet his eyes, but he did move out of the way. Dean took that as a good sign and slipped into Cas’s room, moving to sit down on the bed. When Cas just stood there Dean rolled his eyes and patted the spot next to him. “Sit down, Cas,” he said gently.

Cas obliged, ever eager to follow Dean’s orders. But the problem was, now that they were both sitting there, Dean had no idea what to say. An apology would be a good start, right? Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Cas beat him to it.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I never had any intention of making you feel uncomfortable in your own home. If there is anything I can do to fix this…” Castiel trails off, looking down at his hands clasped in his lap.

Of fucking course Cas would try to take the blame for this. Asshole. “Cas, look at me.” Castiel complied, albeit hesitantly, and the pain in his eyes made Dean’s chest hurt. “I need you to listen to me, because this is real important. You don’t make me uncomfortable. Or disgusted, or repulsed, or any of those things. And neither does your sexuality, okay? I’m really fucking sorry if I made it feel that way, but you know how much I suck at feelings. I’m still trying, I just fuck up a lot. That’s all.”

Castiel still seemed skeptical and he squinted at Dean. “But—then why do you always become so angry? About Michael?”

And fuck, just hearing that douchebags name _did_ make Dean angry. “Because,” Dean paused, grappling for words. _Because I’m fucking pissed that you like some fancy rich dickhead more than you like me and because there is a very real possibility that I’m actually_ jealous _and maybe a little in love with you._ “Look, Cas, I just don’t want you to get hurt. Sometimes, when I go into protective mode like that, it ends up coming out as anger. And I’m not gonna lie, it was kinda strange at first—finding out you’re into dudes. But only because I wasn’t really expecting it. It just caught me off guard, that’s all.” Huh. That was actually pretty believable.

Some of the doubt was beginning to clear from Cas’s eyes, and Dean was really fucking relieved about that. He hated the thought of Castiel keeping all these thoughts and feelings bottled up so long, and speaking of that, Dean might as well find out if there’s anything else eating at the angel while he’s here.

“Cas, I need you to talk to me about these types of things, because otherwise they turn into big misunderstandings. I can’t help fix the problem if I don’t know what to fix. So if there’s anything else, it’d be pretty fucking helpful to know about it in advance.”

Castiel looked away and bit his lip. Fuck. Not only was that kinda hot, but Dean also knew that was a sign Cas wanted to say something important.

“Cas,” Dean said warningly.

“I just—” Castiel took a deep breath before speaking again, the words coming out in a desperate rush. “Why did you ask me to leave the bunker before? What did I do wrong?”

Dean winced. That was the last thing he had expected Cas to say, and he had no idea how to handle this situation. Castiel took in his reaction and gave him a guilty look.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you that—”

“No, Cas, don’t apologize. You deserve an answer.” Dean bit his lip. Shit. How was he supposed to explain this? He _knew_ he would have to fess up eventually, but he had hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. Maybe a couple of years from now or something. And okay, yeah, that was beyond wishful thinking, but he just… He knew Sammy would be pissed. Hell, Sam had every _right_ to be pissed, but Dean couldn’t lose Sammy, he just couldn’t.

But he had to tell the truth eventually, and right now he was in risk of losing _Cas._ Again. It was obvious that this had been eating Cas up inside for who knows how long. No wonder he always thought he had to prove his worth, Dean couldn’t even imagine how it must have looked like. I mean, it must have seemed as though Dean didn’t want Cas around unless he had his powers, which was ridiculously far from the truth. Dean was just beginning to process all his fucked up feeling around the angel, and the last thing he wanted was to screw up even more.

Castiel was looking at him with those fucking sad eyes, and Dean sighed in defeat. God, this was gonna be hard. He knew that once he told Cas about this, he would have to tell Sammy too. He was _not_ looking forward to that conversation. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’m gonna have to tell you something real important in order for you to understand why I asked you to leave. But you can’t tell Sammy; he doesn’t know about it yet.”

Cas’s eyes widened but Dean cut him off before he could protest.

“Just listen to me first, okay? The trials…” Dean’s face twisted at the memory of how sick Sam had been. “They were real hard on Sammy. That last one was the worse. Even though he didn’t complete it, it still messed him up real bad. He—he was dying, Cas. He was going to die, and there was nothing I could do about it.”

The mattress sunk down slightly beside Dean, signaling that Cas had shifted closer to him. “Dean, please tell me you didn’t make a deal.” Cas’s voice was as strained as Dean felt at the moment.

“No. I mean, I tried, but…” Dean trailed off, and he heard Castiel sigh in relief beside him.

“Then what is it, Dean? What happened?” Dean felt Castiel awkwardly place a hand on Dean’s shoulder, and Dean felt a surge of fondness towards the angel. Always looking out for Dean, always trying to comfort him. Even when _Dean_ was supposed to be the one comforting _Cas_.

“I prayed. I tried praying to you, but I guess by then Metatron had already gotten ahold of you. I was running out of options, and Sammy was running out of minutes, so I took a risk. A stupid one. I sent out, like, a mass prayer I guess. To all the angels.” Dean felt Castiel tense beside him and rushed to continue. “I knew it was stupid, and that most of heaven wanted us dead, but I didn’t care anymore, Cas. I had to try. This one angel showed up. Ezekiel, he said he knew you?” Even though it wasn’t exactly a question, Dean’s voice picked up at the end due to uncertainty.

“Yes, Ezekiel. He was in my garrison. A fine soldier; I fought many battles beside him.” Dean relaxed slightly. Good to know Zeke wasn’t lying, at least.

“Good, good. Anyways, he offered to help, but he couldn’t heal Sammy from the outside. I—I knew there was no way Sam would agree to being an angels meatsuit, so I had to trick him. Into saying yes.” At some point Dean’s voice had cracked, but he hadn’t even noticed.

“Oh, Dean,” Cas said empathetically.

“I know it was stupid, Cas. And wrong. But, you know me, you know how much of a selfish dick I am. I couldn’t live without Sam. I did what I had to do.” Dean spared a glance at the angel, but Cas didn’t seem angry or judgmental. He looked… understanding. Dean looked away; he didn’t deserve Cas’s gentleness at the moment.

“And it worked. Sam started getting better. And then, when you showed up to the bunker, I was so damn happy. I missed having you around—I was so afraid that you were dead, but you weren’t. You were right there in front of me. It thought we could get things back on track, and that I could help you out and stuff. But then, when you were in the shower, Zeke came to me and said he didn’t want you here. I swear Cas, I tried to fight him on it, but he said he would leave and then Sammy would die. He wouldn’t even let me _contact_ you afterwards. I practically had to beg him, and he still said no. That night I called you I had to sneak out of the bunker.

“It was stupid, asking you to leave. I could have done more, I could have figured something, but I didn’t. And you have no idea how much I regret that, Castiel. I wish I could go back and change it, but I can’t, and I’m sorry.” By the end of Dean’s speech the words were coming out in a rush, fleeing to escape before Dean could chicken out and stop talking. Dean was slightly out of breath from speaking so long, but he felt… strangely good. He hadn’t realized how much that had been weighing on him, how much he was itching to tell someone.

And Cas—Cas was staring at him as if Dean had been speaking another language. His eyebrows were scrunched together and he eyed Dean with a look of utter confusion. “You… you didn’t want me to leave?” His voice was so small and so hopeful that Dean wasn’t sure whether to cry or smile.

He went with smiling, because this moment was girly enough, dammit. “Of course not, Cas. I hate it when you’re gone. I never want you to leave again.” Dean’s face grew hot because shit, that sounded so lame. But Cas was just staring at him with this look of complete wonderment.

“You didn’t want me to leave,” he said again, but this time it wasn’t a question. He said it in that breathless, shocked- yet-hopeful kinda voice that someone might use to say, “I just won the lottery”.

Dean just nodded again, squirming under the scrutiny of Cas’s stare. Castiel looked away suddenly with an uncertain look on his face. “Dean, I’m not sure I can keep something like this from Sam. Angelic possession is a very serious matter and he deserves to know the truth.”

Dean groaned. Ugh. He knew this was coming. “I know, Cas. I—I’ll talk to him alright? Today. Maybe.”

Cas shot him a look and Dean looked at him pleadingly. “I don’t want him to hate me,” he admitted. Castiel’s face softened at that and he gave Dean a gentle smile.

“Sam could never hate you, Dean. He may become… upset… but I’m sure he will come around eventually.”

Dean felt a bit of relief at the reassurance, but he covered it up with a weak smile. “You know, I guess it’s a good thing Charlie forced me to talk to you, huh?”

Castiel nodded. “I find talking to be quite helpful. I don’t understand your reluctance towards engaging in these types of conversations.” Oh great. Now he had another Samantha on his hands.

“Oh come on, Cas,” he groaned. “Talking about feelings is so girly.”

Dean received a bitch face in return but cut Cas off before he could protest. “I know, I know, ‘gender is a social construct and holds no power over human interaction’. He dropped his voice so it sounded more like Cas’s gravelly tone.

Castiel’s brows wrinkled. “I don’t sound like that,” he said defensively.

“Yeah, you do. just a little bit.” The disgruntled look on the angel’s face made Dean laugh. The air between them felt lighter, somehow. It was nice not to have all these buried feelings and misunderstandings weighing down their interactions. And sure, there was no way in hell Dean was even near ready to bring up his nagging suspicions that his feeling towards Cas were slightly more than platonic, but they could cross that bridge later. Maybe.

For now he just shook his head and smiled fondly at his friend. “What’d’ya say we go get some breakfast, huh? We have some of that new pie in the fridge.”

The way that Cas’s face lit up gave Dean hope that maybe, just maybe, things will turn out alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we're getting pretty close to the end of this story. Maybe anywhere form like one to five more chapters? (Big gap, I know, but I wanna be safe) I'm not sure yet though, they have a few more things to work out. Anyways, as always, thanks for reading and good luck!


	27. Chapter 27

Things actually turned out alright, at far as Sammy went. Sure, he had been pissed, and he had flat out ignored Dean for three days straight, but things were better now. He seemed to somewhat understand why Dean had done it. In the end, he just threatened to kill Dean if he did something like that again—which was understandable.

So yeah, things were okay. And Castiel and him were doing better, too. There was less tension between them, less secrets. There were still _some_ secrets, of course, but he wasn’t planning on addressing those any time soon. Not until absolutely necessary.

Charlie, on the other hand, seemed to have a different idea.

“Come on, Dean. I’ve given you a whole week without nagging you about it, but this is something you need to talk about.”

Dean rolled his eyes at her from where he was leaning back on his bed. “You know, you don’t _have_ to nag me about it at all.”

“Yes, I do,” Charlie said firmly. She stared at him expectantly for a moment before sighing in defeat and plopping down next to him. “Dean, this is important,” she whined. “Just tell me why the whole ‘Cas being gay’ thing used to bug you so much. If you have any sense of internalized homophobia it’s important to address it early on.”

“I do not have ‘internalized homophobia’,” Dean sputtered. “I already told you the same thing I told Cas: I was just trying to look out for him and the protectiveness came across as anger.”

“And _I_ already told _you_ that that’s bullshit. I’m not an idiot, Dean; I can tell when you’re hiding something.”

Dean groaned. “Charlie, I’m telling you, I’m not hiding anything. Can we please just let this go?”

Charlie glared at him for a few moments before rolling her eyes. “God, you’re so stubborn,” she complained. “And, just for the record, I _will_ get you to tell me the truth.” She stood up and shot him another withering look before starting towards the door.

Dean just smirked at her, happy to be off the hook for now. “Forget about it, Charlie,” he called after her. “It aint gonna happen.”

*****

“Forget about it, Michael,” Castiel said sternly. “It’s not going to happen, so please, just stop bringing it up.”

“Angel, I swear, I’m pretty sure I’m right about this,” he insisted. “It’s worth a shot.”

When Castiel said nothing in reply Michael huffed. “Think about it, angel. If he’s not a homophobic dick, then why does he react the way you say he does?”

Cas ran a hand down his face and gripped the phone tighter, plopping onto his bed. “Because he’s protective. We’ve already gone over this.”

Michael snorted. “Trust me, sugar, that is _not_ what protectiveness looks like. It’s what _jealousy_ looks like. I’ve been around the block enough times to know a jealous man when I see one.”

“Michael, I’ve already told that’s impossible. There’s no way Dean could possibly feel that way; he’s straight, and—”

“How do you know?”

Castiel stopped for a moment, confused. “What? How do I know what?”

“That he’s straight. Have you ever asked him directly? Has he ever flat out said it?”

“Well, no but—”

“Then how could you possibly know, angel?”

Castiel rolled his eyes, mildly annoyed by Michael interrupting him and majorly annoyed by Michael not listening. “I don’t _need_ to ask him, Michael. It’s fairly obvious, even without him saying it. And even if, _if_ , he wasn’t entirely straight, he still wouldn’t want _me._ I’ve made to many mistakes. He knows me too well.”

He heard Michael groan on the other side of the line. “Jesus Christ, it’s like talking to a brick wall,” the other man muttered. “Okay, fine, stay in denial then. I’m just telling you, I really think you might have a shot with him.”

“Michael, I’m not—” Castiel cut off as he door clicked open and Charlie slipped in, looking mildly frustrated. He could relate. “Hello, Charlie,” he greeted.

Charlie grinned at him. “Heya, Cas, how—oh wait, are you on the phone? Should I come back later?”

Cas shook his head and Charlie perked up, moving to flop onto the bed beside him. She quickly made herself comfortable, laying on her stomach with her chin probed up on her hands.

“Who’s Charlie?” Michael asked curiously.

Castiel returned his attention to the phone. “She’s a friend who’s been staying with us for—”

“Oooh, a lady friend? Put me on speaker.”

Cas’s eyebrows scrunched together. “What? Why do you want to be on speaker?” he asked suspiciously. Charlie shot him a questioning look.

“Come on, angel, please,” Michael whined. “I promise I won’t say anything too embarrassing.”

Castiel rolled his eyes but relented, hitting the button before placing the phone on the bed. “Fine, you’re on speaker phone. Charlie, this is Michael. He’s… a friend.”

“Aw, you have other friends,” Charlie gushed. “How cute. I’m still your bestie, though.”

Oh dear god. Cas could only handle one of them at a time, and he had no idea how this conversation was going to go. Michael didn’t know anything about the supernatural world, he didn’t even know Cas’s real name. And if Michael even _thought_ about bringing up Dean, he swore to god, he would—

“Charlie,” Michael drawled from the other side of the line. “What a beautiful name, I’m assuming for an equally beautiful girl.”

Cas rolled his eyes yet again. “She’s gay, Michael,” he said bluntly.

“Oh. How disappointing. Ah, well, can’t blame a guy for trying. At least I actually _try_ to pursue the people I’m interested in, unlike _some_ people,” he said pointedly.

This seemed to pique Charlie’s interest, and she raised her eyebrows at Cas. Castiel blushed in response. “Cut it out, Michael,” he said warningly.

Michael sighed. “Alright, alright. Anyways, do you wanna come over tomorrow? I’ll make it worth your while.”

Cas nervously glanced from the phone to Charlie, hoping she didn’t pick up on Michael’s tone. “Uh, sure,” he said, mostly just to get Michael to shut up. “I’ll call you later to figure out a time and stuff.”

“No need, I’ll just send Vince to pick you up at five. Nice speaking to you Charlie, albeit briefly. And think about what I said, angel. I mean it.” With that Michael hung up, and Castiel sighed in relieve. Luckily they had managed to avoid any serious damage. That could have been a disaster.

“What was that all about?” Charlie asked innocently. Too innocently, if you asked Castiel. She must suspect something, and that couldn’t be good.

Cas shook his head, hoping she’d drop the subject. “Nothing,” he assured her. “That was just Michael. I met him when I first became human. He’s just a friend.”

“Right...” she said with a smirk. “A friend who make your visits ‘worth your while’.” She changed her tone to a more flirtatious one at the end of the sentence to mimic Michael.

Shit. Castiel could feel his face heating up, and apparently that was all the ammunition Charlie needed.

“I knew it,” she exclaimed triumphantly. “Cassie’s got a boyfriend.”

“He _is not_ my boyfriend.” God, why did everyone always assume that? Well… they were engaging in intercourse… Ugh. He supposed it made sense for others to jump to that conclusion. “Our relationship is not romantic, nor is it exclusive. I view him as nothing more than a friend, and the same goes for him.”

Understanding dawned on Charlie’s face. “Ah, so you’re fuckbuddies.”

Castiel winced at the crude description. “I… I suppose so, yes.”

Charlie’s face scrunched up momentarily. “God, this is so weird. A gay ex-angel of the lord in a friends with benefits situation. Who would have thunk. Anyways, I was wondering if you wanted to help me make some sandwiches for lunch. You still haven’t tried peanut butter and jelly’s,” she gave him a pleading look, batting her eyelashes for good measure.

Castiel sighed. Charlie was always trying to get him into cooking. Probably so that he could eventually make her food. He wasn’t really in the mood to get up, but it was hard to say no to Charlie. “I suppose I would be willing to assist you,” he said reluctantly. For now, he was just relieved that she seemed to have forgotten about Michael and the fact that he had hinted Cas was interested in someone.

A grin broke out across Charlie’s face. “Thanks, Cas! You’re the best.”


	28. Chapter 28

“So I’m pretty sure Cas might be, you know, interested in someone.”

Dean immediately dropped the plate he had been washing and turned to gawk at Charlie, who was leaning against the counter next to him, drying off the dishes. “You think _what_? Why?”

Charlie just gave him an understanding smile. “I know, right? I definitely wasn’t expecting it either, but it would make sense. He was talking on the phone with his friend—Michael or something—and the dude clearly implied that Cas liked someone but was too afraid to go after them.”

Dean forced himself to swallow and turn back to the dishes, now washing them more aggressively than strictly necessary. Jesus Christ. He could barely survive the thought of Cas having sex with other people, but the thought of Castiel actually falling _in love_ with someone else…

Fuck. Dean was totally screwed. Who the hell could the guy be interested in, anyways? It couldn’t be Michael, at least, right? Not if Michael already knew about it. Unless, of course, Michael didn’t actually know _who_ Cas was interested in, but just that he was interested in _someone_. Shit. Maybe it _was_ Michael. Who else could it be? As far as Dean knew, Cas didn’t have any other friends. Well, there was Jake… Huh. Cas had spent quite a while living in close quarters with the other guy. It was a possibility.

Maybe… maybe it was someone else? Someone Cas knew before he even turned human? Angels were out of the question entirely. Other hunters, maybe? Cas didn’t even know that many other hunters. Unless—oh dear god, what if it was Sammy? The thought made Dean sick. Ugh. He really needed to stop thinking about this.

 _What if it’s you?_ Shut up. No. That wasn’t possible, right? Dean would have noticed, he would have been able to tell. He was projecting his feelings, dammit. That was all. Dean couldn’t afford to get his hopes up, not when he knew that it probably wasn’t even possible.

But hadn’t Cas always said they shared a more profound bond? Hadn’t Castiel basically given up everything—his home, his family, his grace—for Dean? _No_. Not for Dean. For humanity. For free will. Not for Dean.

Right?

“Hey, Dean, are you okay?”

The sound of Charlie’s concerned voice snaps Dean out of his thoughts, and he quickly realizes that at some point the had stopped scrubbing the cup in his hand. He cleared his throat, nodded his head, took a moment to recollect himself. “Yeah, yeah, of course. I just wasn’t expecting it, you know? But I’m happy for him. Really. The dude needs something good in his life.”

“Yeah, he does,” Charlie said softly. “So do you. Have things been going well with Sam? After that whole fiasco with—what was his name, Zeke?”

Dean blew out a breath and relaxed slightly, grateful for the change in subject. “It’s better. I can tell he’s still a little pissed about it, but that’s understandable. He’ll get over it eventually.”

They kept up the other small talk for a while as they finished up the dishes. Afterwards Charlie retreated back to her room, deciding to take a nap before it was time for their nightly movie.

Dean glanced at the clock. It wasn’t even seven o’clock yet; it would be at least another three hours until they started the movie. Ugh. Dean didn’t even have anything to do.

Maybe… maybe it wouldn’t hurt to go talk to Cas for a bit. He’d have to do it eventually, if they really wanted this whole ‘being more open’ thing to be successful.

It took several minutes of convincing and internal arguing, but eventually Dean managed to force himself to get up and get his ass down the hall. He hesitated outside of Cas’s room for a moment before lightly tapping the wood. “Hey Cas, can I come in?”

“Of course, Dean,” came the muffled reply.

No turning back now. Dean stepped into the room, letting the door gently close behind him. Cas was propped up against some pillows on his bed, the bee blanket draped across his lap and his phone in his hands. There was an open book on the bed beside him, signaling that Cas had probably been reading one of those lame novels Sam picked him up from the thrift store. Nerd.

Dean made his way over to the bed and sat down, wringing his hands a bit. How do you casually ask your best friend who you definitely have a crush on if they’re in love with someone else?

Fuck.

Not ready to get into that yet, Dean decided to start somewhere small. He went with “who are you texting?”, because hey, he honestly was kinda curious.

Cas bit his lip, looking mildly hesitant. “Uh, Michael,” he said cautiously, eyeing Dean’s reaction.

Dean made sure to look as calm as possible, and Cas seemed to relax slightly.

“He’s complaining to me about some girl who works at a coffee shop,” he explained. “She keeps rejecting him, and it’s making him frustrated. I think he actually likes her,” Cas said fondly.

Huh. Okay. That wasn’t what Dean was expecting the texts to be about, but he was just grateful it wasn’t sexting or something like that. Dean just frowned a bit and nodded, and Cas returned his attention to his phone.

After a few minutes of silence Dean finally got the nerve to speak up—though it wasn’t about what he originally came here for. “Hey, Cas?” he asked softly.

Cas looked up at him, green eyes meeting blue, but Dean found himself looking away.

“You, uh, I mean, you don’t have to answer this, ‘cause I get that it’s personal or whatever, and not even any of my business, but uh—” Dean spared another glance and found Cas tilting his head at him. “Why do you, you know, still, uh… visit Michael.” He winced internally at the wording. _Smooth, Winchester._

Cas paused and squinted at him for a moment. He looked like he was about to brush away the question with some halfhearted lie, but suddenly his expression changed, as though it suddenly dawned on him that this was really bugging Dean. “I don’t…” he trailed of and sighed as he tried to find a way to explain it. “At first, I suppose, it was a nice distraction from everything. But now...” Cas looked down and blushed, hands fiddling with the blanket. “I don’t know, I guess it’s nice to feel… useful. And wanted.” The blush on Cas’s cheeks intensified to a near red color, and Dean blinked at him

“That’s it?” he said in disbelief. “ _That’s_ why you’re fucking him?”

Cas shot Dean a petulant glare and huffed. “Dean, I don’t expect you to understand—”

“No, no, Cas, it’s not that, it’s just—you _are_ useful. And wanted. Your both of those things to _me.”_ Both men’s eyes widened as they took it what he just said. “I—I mean to _us._ All of us. Like, Charlie and Sam, too, you know,” he stammered.

Cas was looking at him with this strange expression that Dean didn’t know how to describe. “Thank you, Dean. Really. That means a lot,” he said sincerely.

Dean nodded and looked away again, chewing on the inside of his cheek. God this was awkward. “So then, you don’t mind? That he might potentially be falling in love with someone else?”

“Of course not, that would be highly hyp—I mean, unsupportive. Besides, I don’t care about him that way, and it would be good for him to finally settle down.”

Dean caught the slip up, eyes immediately narrowing. Cas was about to say it would be highly hypocritical, implying that Cas himself loved someone. Which would mean Charlie’s theory was correct.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. Might as well just rip the Band-Aid off.  “Look, Cas I’m not gonna beat around the bush here. You’re uh—you’re, like, in love with someone, aren’t you?”

Cas’s eyes widened in something akin to panic. “ _What_? No, no, of course not. Why would you— why would you even think that?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Cas, come on, be honest. You can trust me. Just, I don’t know… do you mind, like, telling me who it is?” His voice became smaller the more he went on, as did his confidence.

Cas chewed on his lip again and shifted, looking distinctly uncomfortable, eyes still focused on his lap.

 _Please don’t be Sam please don’t be Sam please don’t be Sam._ “Cas?” Dean prompted

Castiel’s expression shifted into a pained one. “Dean, _please_ , just let this go. Nothing is going to come of my feelings anyways, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters, Cas!” Cas said nothing, opting to keep his eyes shut tight. Fuck. Dean couldn’t take it anymore. “Is it Sam?”

Cas’s eyes shot open and he started at Dean incredulously. “ _No_ ,” he exclaimed, looking mildly repulsed.

Phew. Okay, that was a fucking relief.

But then who else? A small sense of hope began to pluck at Dean’s brain. “Cas, look at me, okay?” Cas did, but only for a split second, his eyes immediately reverting back to the blanket. Dean took a deep breath and tried to build up some confidence. “Is it me?” he asked, voice barely a whisper.

Castiel’s entire body tensed and he finally looked up at Dean, his gaze desperate, words coming out in a scrambled rush. “Dean, please, I’m so so sorry, I know you don’t feel the same and I completely respect that and the last thing I expect is for this to change anything so can we ju—”

His blabbering was abruptly cut off with a surprised ‘oompf’ as Dean surged forward and pressed his lips against Cas’s. Castiel tensed for a split second before he melted into Dean, all traced of tension slowly draining from his body.

Dean brought his hands up to cup Cas’s face, quickly sliding back to tug at his ever-tousled sex-hair as the kiss intensified. Cas’s mouth opened as a deep moan escaped his lips, allowing Dean to deepen the kiss even more. Jesus Christ, just _kissing_ Cas shouldn’t be as hot as it was.

With no small amount of effort Castiel managed to pull back slightly. Dean frowned at the loss and opened his eyes to drink in Cas’s disheveled appearance. Pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed, mouth bright pink, and hair especially ruffled. “Dean,” he got out in breathlessly, “wait, you don’t have to—”

Jesus fucking Christ, _that’s_ what Cas stopped kissing him for? Because he thought Dean somehow felt obligated? Dean ignored the muffled protests and captured Cas’s lips again, more softly this time. “I know, Cas. I _want_ to.”

But Cas, the stupid idiot, pulled back _again,_ a look of utter disbelief on his face. “But _why_? I don’t understand—” Castiel cut off and narrowed his eyes at him. “Dean, if you’re doing this as some kind of joke, or out of pity, I will—”

“ _Cas_ ,” Dean said gently, staring intently into the angel’s eyes, “Listen to me, man. I want this, I—” Oh my fucking god this was embarrassing. “I’ve kinda liked you for, like, a while now. But I don’t know, at first it kinda freaked me out, and then once I got over it I figured you could never look at me that way anyways.” Dean gave a halfhearted shrug, trying to fight down the blush spreading across his cheeks. “Oh don’t give me that look,” he huffed in response to Cas’s incredulous stare. “I mean, you were literally an angel! Why would you even look at me twice, you know? I don’t have anything to offer you.”

“Dean,” Cas said reverently, “I’ve loved you since that very first moment I pulled you out of hell. I have existed for millennia, longer than you could even fathom, but no one— _no_ _one_ —has ever been able to make me feel the way you do. You don’t have to offer me anything because _you_ are my _everything._ ”

Dean gulped, his face growing even hotter. Dear god, this was like something straight out of a cheesy romance novel. He needed a way out of all this gooey stuff—not that it didn’t secretly make him feel really fucking great or anything, but come on, his masculinity was a stake here.

So he just pulled Cas into another heated kiss, trying to express through actions what he couldn’t say with words. Luckily Cas seemed to get the message as he kissed Dean back eagerly, making these little breathy sounds that drove Dean crazy. And Jesus Christ, don’t even get Dean started on how good Cas smelled. It wasn’t even just that freaking honey shampoo, it was just _Cas_. Dean pushed Castiel back so that he was laying on the bed, Dean straddling his hips. Cas moaned appreciatively at the new position and reflexively bucked his hips up. _Fuck that was hot._

They continued for what could have been hours. Their shirts were long gone, discarded messily somewhere on the floor, and getting their pants off soon became Dean’s top priority. But he also knew they needed to slow down, just a bit. He needed to be sure Cas was on the same page as him, so this time Dean was the one who pulled away. Cas literally _whined_ when Dean pulled their lips apart, and Dean huffed out a laugh. “I know, Cas, I know. I just, I need to be sure you want this, because if we keep going like this I don’t think I’ll be able to stop. But, I mean, I’m fine with waiting and taking it slow if that’s what you—”

Cas cut him off with a glare. “Dean, it’s been seven years. If you make me wait even a second longer I will get my grace back for the sole purpose of smiting you.”

Dean smirked down at him. Damn, angry Cas was really fucking sexy. “I don’t know…” he said teasingly, “maybe we can wait a bit lon—”

“ _Dean_.”

A grin broke out across Dean’s face and he leaned down once more. “Alright, bossy,” he mumbled against Cas’s neck. It didn’t take long for Cas to become a writhing mess under him.

“Dean, Dean—oh, Dean _please—”_

Dean chuckled against the fabric of Cas’s boxers. “You sure are awfully responsive, Cas.” Thank god for the fact that the bunker’s walls were relatively soundproof, and for that fact that Charlie was most likely sleeping soundly in her room.

Cas panted, his labored breaths filling the air. “It’s all so different, with you. It’s—” Castiel hissed as Dean focused on sucking a bruise into his sharp hipbone “it’s so much better.”

A smug sense of pride bubbled up in Dean’s chest. _Ha. Take that, Michael._ He shot Cas a devilish grin. “Oh, Cas, we haven’t even _started_ yet. Wait till I get your cock in my mouth.”

Cas’s eyes widened comically at Dean’s words and he blushed furiously. “No one— _oh, Dean_ —no one’s ever, you know, used their mouth on me before,” Cas said bashfully.

Dean’s grin grew ever larger, pleased that he would be the first to show Cas the joys of a good blow job. Okay, maybe not _that_ good. This was Dean’s first time attempting one, after all. He was mildly upset by the reminder that Cas had never really been allowed to focus on his _own_ pleasure, but he shook the feeling away. They had time to change that, starting tonight.

“I’m going to make you feel better than you ever have before, Cas. I promise. I’m gonna take my time with you, make it real good, okay?”

Castiel nodded eagerly, gazing at Dean with nothing short of fascination. Dean felt any traces of reluctance or nervousness completely vanish under Cas’s gaze, and he smiled to himself.

This was gonna be fun.

*****

“That was… very fun…” Castiel got out between pants. He didn’t even need to look at Dean to know he was smirking.

Castiel was still sprawled out on his bed with Dean’s arms wrapped around his bare waist. Dean was half on top of him, lazily pressing kisses onto Cas’s neck.

This whole situation was absolutely unfathomable. _Impossible_. And yet it was here, it was happening, it was undoubtedly _real._ A slow smile spread across Castiel’s face.

Dean shifted slightly, his hair tickling Cas’s chin as he lifted his head up. Cas suddenly found himself gazing into bright green eyes flickering with amusement.

“What are you smiling about, dork?”

Cas just shook his head at Dean, his smile growing ever wider. “This is real,” he said, voice breathy and filled with amazement.

Dean rolled his eyes. “No shit, Cas.” He flopped back onto Castiel’s chest, but not before Cas caught sight of the smile spreading on his face to.

Castiel brought his arms up to wrap around Dean protectively, clinging to him as though he could slip away at any moment. _This is real, this is real, this is real._ A warm feeling of contentment unfurled in Cas’s chest. He had never felt so peaceful, so happy.

It was… refreshing.

“Hey, Cas, do you have any idea where Dean is?”

Castiel stiffened at the sound of Charlie’s voice just outside the door. He glanced at Dean in a panic, only to see the other man looking up at him with raised eyebrows and a mischievous smile.

“Uh, no, I—don’t come in! I’m… changing clothes,” Castiel called back. Dean looked like he was about to burst into laughter at any given second. _Assbutt._

“Um, okay…?” Charlie replied, sounding very confused. “Hurry up, then. I can’t find Dean anywhere, and we should probably start the movie soon. Oh, wait! I could just call him!”

A few seconds later a Dean’s ringtone went off loudly, blaring from the pocket of his discarded jeans.

_Shit shit shit._

Dean had his hand clamped over his mouth, obviously struggling to contain his need to laugh.

“Cas, what the hell? Why didn’t you just tell me Dean was in there?” The door knob started to turn, and Castiel panicked.

“Wait—Charlie, no, don’t open the door, please—”

Dean rolled his eyes, finally seeming to take pity on Castiel. “Charlie,” he called out calmly, “unless you’re in the mood to see two very naked dudes, I recommend you keep that door closed.”

Castiel flushed bright pink, and he gaped at Dean. Dean just grinned at him.

“Dean, what are you—holy shit. _Holy shit_! _I fucking knew it!”_ Charlie yelled. “I am so going to whoop your asses later!” By the end of it Charlie’s voice became more distant, probably as she ran off to tell Sam.

Dean immediately burst into laughter, and Castiel rolled his eyes fondly at him. “Dean, was that really necessary?”

Dean shrugged. “Well, next time I guess I could just let her walk in…”

“ _Dean_!” Castiel halfheartedly glared at him, but he couldn’t stop his own smile from forming. Suddenly his brain caught up with Dean’s words, hope blooming in his chest. “Wait, you’re okay with there being a next time?”

“Of course, Cas,” Dean said softly. “There’s no way I would give this up. I—I need you.”

 _Oh._ Cas’s eyes widened as he figured out what Dean meant. Pure joy washed over Castiel and he tugged Dean back against his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I love you too, Dean.”

_FIN_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, we've reached the end! If any of you guys have any ideas for other scenes you wanna see for this story, let me know in the comments. I might consider making it into a series with some prompts you guys give me, if that's something you guys would be interested in. No guarantees I'll get to every prompt though.  
> As always, thanks for reading, and good luck!


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